


Married by Accident

by RobinMediocreFellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempt at Humor, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith May or May Not Be In A Gang, Lance is a selkie, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinMediocreFellow/pseuds/RobinMediocreFellow
Summary: All Keith did was hand Lance his coat back at a party. But the next morning Lance shows up with an engagement ring, suggesting that they get married by human customs as well.Or: the story of how Keith learned about trust, Lance learned about freedom and Cosmo the wolf finally got a name





	1. Keith tries to be social; Lance is Boldly Being Bi

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [mafs: foundation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13502366) by [kittymills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymills/pseuds/kittymills). 



> This is my first Klance, hurray! Please tell me your thoughts about this!  
> Possible Trigger Warning: Consumption of Alcohol

 “I really don’t want to be here”, Keith tells his brother as they trudge up the stairs to the front door. Loud music blares from inside, something elvish, he guesses – it makes the rose bushes in the front yard grow wildly.

“Oh, come on, Keith”, Shiro encourages him. “I´m sure it´ll be fun”

“Yeah, Keith, loosen up a little” Adam, Shiro´s boyfriend since high school, opens the door for them, motioning for the two others to step inside.

The music is definitively elvish, Keith decides after the door closes behind him. A wild mix of flutes, song birds and gurgling water, all run through a synthesizer and bass-boosted into oblivion. People are scattered throughout the living room, sitting on furniture, each other and the floor. Keith doesn’t bother to try and recognize any of them. Potted plants are everywhere, some glow faintly, others move along to the music. An ivy plant in the corner seems to be getting very familiar with a bottle of wine, over at the bar. A mermaid approaches in her wheelchair, snatches the bottle and empties it. The ivy plant retracts into her pot, sulking. Keith is still standing by the door like a startled deer in a car´s headlights. As the song changes and a goat´s scream makes the windows shake, he decides to make a beeline straight for the alcohol. He can´t be bothered to find a glass, just takes a whole bottle of berry wine. He almost plants his ass down on the couch, but then he spots a couple aggressively shoving their tongues down each other´s throats in one of the armchairs and flees to the kitchen.

He almost bumps into Matt in the doorway, who is holding a beer in each hand, sipping both at the same time via two straws. His hair has gotten longer than when Keith last saw him, it´s being held back by a twirled vine. A cardboard crown saying _Borthday Boi_ perches up high on his head. “Happy birthday, dude”, Keith says as he remembers the reason for him being here (other than Shiro and his unreasonable need to make his brother socialize).

“Thanks, man!” Matt is already slurring a little or maybe his wide grin is impeding his speech. “Have you seen Allura?”

“I think she might be in the living room” Keith tries not to stare at the scar on Matt´s cheek. It´s barely even visible anymore, looks like it´s all healed. Unlike Keith´s, which is thick and reddened and makes his cheek tic when he smiles. Matt blurts out a thanks, then pushes past him and runs off. Keith can now finally enter the kitchen.

He finds his brother there, his flesh arm wrapped tightly around Adam while they are talking to two other guests. Keith is ready to turn around and leave again, because he doesn’t want to have to fucking _talk_ to anyone, but Shiro spots him. He waves him closer. Keith groans internally and takes a big gulp of berry wine – it´s sweet enough to melt his molars – then scuffs over. “Hi”, he says in that voice that makes it clear to everyone that he´d rather be somewhere else right now.

Shiro snakes his free arm around Keith´s shoulder, the metal is cool against his skin. Keith has long become used to it. “Guys, this is my brother Keith”, he introduces him, ruffling Keith´s long hair with a whirring metal hand. Keith silently raises a hand, gives the most minimalistic wave and receives two friendly smiles for it. “Keith, this is Hunk” Shiro takes his hand away to point at the guy in the yellow button down. “He helped Matt and Pidge with the last update on my arm” Hunk´s smile becomes even friendlier, maybe even a little proud. Keith settles for a polite nod. “And that’s Lance. They´re friends of Pidge´s.” Shiro drops his arm again, taking the glass Adam hands him.

Keith gives Lance the same nod, earns a beaming grin. He almost flinches, a little taken aback by the overall view Lance presents. His eyes are large and blue, his lips painted a bold shade of berry. Some sort of silvery fur coat is wrapped around his narrow shoulders, almost covering his blue crop top. His long denim legs end in white Doc Martens with soles so thick they make him an inch taller than Keith. “Hi!” The berry lips part, exposing a row of sharp teeth.

“Hey” Keith suddenly feels underdressed in his hoodie and jeans. Even Shiro is wearing his leather jacket, his _formal_ one. Keith should have at least brushed his hair.

Lance´s hair falls in perfect little wavy curls and he runs a hair through it as he looks over to Hunk, who is now engaged in an animated conversation with Adam and Shiro. Keith follows the sharp line of his jaw and gets hung up on the berry lips when Lance faces him again. “Well, it´s nice to meet you, Keith”, he says with a tiny lisp.

Keith has to actively tear his eyes away from his mouth. What is _wrong_ with him? When did he become _this_ gay? “It´s, uh”, he stutters, “it´s nice to meet you, too”

Lance lifts a wine glass to his lips, takes a long sip, his eyes are sparkling. “So, how do you know Pidge and Matt?”

Keith feels like a hobo, with his bottle and dirty biker boots. “Shiro used to babysit Matt when we were kids. Shiro dragged me along today” He takes a big gulp of wine from his bottle, trying to drown the sudden shyness emerging inside him. “And you? How do you know them?”

Lance wets his lips before he speaks, which makes Keith takes another gulp of pure sweetness. “Through Allura and Lotor, do you know them?” He waits for Keith to nod, then continues speaking. “So Allura invited me to her Christmas party and Pidge and Hunk were there” He empties his glass “Have you been to Hunk´s bakery? His cakes are amazing!”

Keith blinks. “Uh, no”

“Well, you should!” Lance grabs Keith´s bottle and fills his glass, then hands it back.

Keith opens his mouth to say something but has to jump back quickly when Pidge comes running into the kitchen, almost tripping over their own feet and coming to screeching halt between the two. Pidge interrupts the Adam-Shiro-Hunk conversation by tugging the latter´s sleeve. Hunk leans down, they whisper something in his ear.

His eyes light up. “Oh, right, the fireworks!” He ducks away from Pidge trying to hit him, probably for babbling about an obviously secret plan. “I´ll be right with you”, he excuses himself, then is promptly dragged out of the room by a very determined Pidge.

Lance looks after them, Keith looks at Lance. Is that a hickey peaking out from under his collar? And why does Keith even _care_ about that? He _just_ met this guy! Keith discretely takes a deep breath, centers himself. He doesn’t like how Lance makes him feel, how nervous he gets. Keith is okay with being gay, but he likes to keep in on the down low. Keep his feelings in check. But he doesn’t want to stop talking to Lance, either. “Are you from around here?”, he asks, maybe a little too firmly.

Lance looks at him again, their eyes meet briefly, Keith looks down. “No”, Lance says, “My family lives outside the city, near the sea” He watches the wine swirl in his glass. It´s the same color as his lipstick; berry and berry, one wet and glistening, the other soft and matt. The purple mixes with his blue eyes when he directs them at Keith again. “And you?”

“I moved to the city center a few years ago”, Keith says, taking another sip of wine. He is getting buzzed. “Shiro and I grew up in Kerberos, though”

“Kerberos?” Lance has a distracting habit of casually resting the rim of his glass against his lower lip, even when he´s not drinking.

“It´s an outlying district, nothing too fancy but not exactly the hood either” Keith breaks the eye contact, his cheeks are getting too warm. “Shiro and Adam still live there” Keith has no idea why, he moved out as soon as he could; he had to get away from where _it_ happened. “I moved away for work”

“What do you work as?” Lance´s fur coat is slipping off his shoulder, revealing what looks like more hickeys. He yanks it back up before Keith can be sure though.

“I´m a tattoo artist” Keith put his wine bottle on the table next to him, so he can push up his sleeves, revealing the runes and sigils that cover both his forearms.

“Oooh” Lance set his glass next to Keith´s bottle and grabs Keith´s arms, turning them to either side to better see the tattoos. “Do these work?”

“Yeah” Keith half-heartedly tries to free his arms. Lance´s hands are cold, soft, with dark nails, even though it doesn’t look like he´s wearing nail polish. Keith stares at his long fingers with burning cheeks.

Lance leans down to examine the symbols, lets go of one arm to point at one on Keith´s wrist. “What´s that one for?” He raises Keith´s arm to his face, so close Keith can almost feel his breath. “It looks like a B”

“It´s a healing rune” Keith lays his hand over Lance´s, moves it to reveal another rune. “And that´s for good health. They work well together”

Lance nods lightly, tracing a fingernail over the symbols. “These look different than the ones Lotor and Allura use” His tongue sticks out between his lips. _Blep._

Keith tries to keep his voice from squeaking, which works only semi-well. “Because the magic they use is elvish and they only use it for alchemy”

Lance looks up at him with a weird look in his eyes. “Not only” He lets go of Keith´s arm, takes his glass again. His lips are pressed together in a tight line.

Keith opens his mouth, confused, but Lance has already turned towards and chatted up a blonde girl, his knuckles going white around the stem of his glass. Keith´s shoulders drop, his jaw clenches. Rude much?

He grabs his wine, turns around and leaves the kitchen without sparing Lance another glance.

He has emptied the bottle by the time he´s reached the garden. The living room is still full of people, dancing and talking – Keith scoffs at them. He grabs another bottle off the now sufficiently less supplied booze buffet and stumbles outside through the open sliding door and off the patio. There´s a bench by the pond, under the weeping willow. Keith makes his way over, collapses on the bench and unscrews his second bottle.

Lance watches Keith leave the kitchen out of the corner of his eye, not even listening to whatever the girl is saying. He worries his lip between his teeth, tasting lipstick, then blood. It´s a shame that their conversation had to end, but Lance has secrets to protect. Maybe he´ll have another chance to talk to Keith. He´s cute.

Lance nods along to the girl´s (Nyma?) words without listening, wraps his pelt tighter around himself so she would stop staring. His glass is empty already, he longs for more intoxication. A tattoo artist, he thinks. And he knows his runes, too. And Lance just had to be rude and scare him off, like the freak he is. Maybe he should just stick to Lotor and Allura.

“Are you even listening?” Nyma snaps his fingers in front of his face. Lance blinks.

“Uh”, he says and Nyma rolls his eyes at him and struts off, leaving Lance alone in the kitchen.

He sighs. Adam and Shiro are talking over by the fridge, but their conversation looks private, intimate, and Lance doesn’t want to intrude. He leaves his glass on the counter – tidiness is not his strong suit – and strides out of the kitchen. He assumes Lotor and Allura are in the living room, so he turns the other way, saunters up the stairs to explore the house instead.

The upstairs hallway is just as vegetated as the living room, small Venus flytraps tug at his pelt as he approaches the front door. It´s a bathroom. Lance steps inside, looks at himself in the mirror. There are bags under his eyes, the concealer on his neck has wiped off. Lance audibly sighs and pulls his concealer out of his thigh bag, reapplies it to his bruises. Then he leaves the bathroom. Bathrooms are boring anyway.

He sways a little as he eludes the flytraps on his way to the next door; Lance always gets drunk from just a few glasses. Or maybe this is because of Keith and his lopsided smile and sharp eyes. Who knows. Lance leans heavily against the door, almost falls when it opens and immediately closes it again when he realizes it´s the master bedroom. None of his business. He was Matt and Pidge´s guest, not their parent´s. Lance wasn’t raised in a barn, after all.

The next room is a direct hit. Judging by the jungle of potted plants, the desk overflowing with paper and the _small dragon sleeping on a pillow_ , it´s Pidge´s. “Hey Rover” Lance scratches the dragon under the chin. It does the happy-squinty-thing cats do and puffs out a happy cloud of smoke. Lance looks around the room. One of the plants looks suspiciously like marihuana, but he figures that´s none of his business. The stuff on the desk he doesn’t understand, it´s all science-y stuff. A pinboard full of photos catches his eye. Rover, as an egg, a baby and in a robot costume, Hunk and his girlfriend Shay, young Pidge and Matt, Matt and Shiro and _oh god, little Keith?_ Lance leans in to get a closer look and almost squeals. He looks adorable! His face is soft und unscarred, his laugh is wide and childish, his hair a black mob sticking out from underneath his hood. One of his front teeth is missing. Matt looks different, too, and so does Shiro. No scars. No white hair. Something must have happened since then. But what?

“What are you doing in my room?”, a voice startles Lance. Pidge.

“Sorry” Lance stands up straight, smiles apologetically. He points at the photo. “When was that?”

Pidge steps closer, takes a look. “Like, fifteen or twenty years ago?”, they guess, squinting at the photo, “I think Matt is about nine, so sixteen years ago”

“And Keith and Shiro?”, Lance asks.

“They´re nine years apart, Shiro is seven years older than Matt, I think” Pidge adjusts their glasses. “Do the math”

It takes Lance a moment to figure out that he and Keith are the same age, 23 years old. His brain hurts. He usually leaves the math to Pidge. “Tell me about Keith”, he says.

Pidge sighs but sits down on the bed. Rover crawls into their lap, they pet him. “Well, I don’t know him very well, he always kept mostly to himself”, they say and Lance listens closely, “But I know that he got into tattooing and rune magic in high school. I think he moved out the day he got himself expelled from school to take a job at this parlor downtown, the Blade of Marmora. They have a bit of a reputation”

“Why´d he get expelled?”

“Punched someone in the face. It was a pretty strict school” Pidge stands up from the bed, grabs something off the shelf. Rover climbs up their arm and takes a seat on their shoulder. “I have to get downstairs” They turn around on their way to the door. “Don’t fucking touch my plants, Lance”

Lance nods, not really listening. He´s busy thinking about Keith. Loner tattoo artist, got kicked out of school. _A bad boy_ , he thinks. _Nice_.

He barges in on a couple playing a nice and friendly round of Hiding The Cucumber when trying to check out Matt´s room and promptly flees from the upper floor, almost falling down the stairs because his feet feel heavier than usual. He catches a whiff of Lotor´s scent as he walks by the kitchen and decides that he should maybe check out the back yard.

The garden looks beautiful after dusk, with fairy lights glowing in every tree, or maybe they´re real pixies. Toads are having a concert over at the small pond, competing with the cicadas in the bushes over who can perform their symphony the loudest. Few people are out here. Lance promenades past all of them, wraps his pelt tighter around himself, it´s getting chilly out here. He stops in his tracks when he spots a familiar figure in the shadow of the weeping willow.

Keith looks up from underneath his heavy lids when someone sits down next him; it´s Lance. Fuck does he want?

“Huh?” is all Keith can manage right now.

“Thought you looked lonely” Lance adjusts his fur coat; his eyes fall to the bottle in Keith´s hand. He reaches out and Keith hands it to him. It´s half empty already, Keith is more than pleasantly buzzed. Lance doesn’t seem sober either, his fingers are clumsy as he unscrews the lid. His lipstick is a little smudged – did he kiss anyone?

And why does Keith _care_?

He doesn’t know what to say, just stares into the yard while Lance is drinking. Hunk and Pidge have brought out a cardboard box a few minutes ago and are now rummaging through the contents. Lance detaches his lips from the bottle with a popping sound, Keith tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks. Pidge has run back inside now, Hunk is setting up glass bottles in a circular formation on the neatly trimmed glass.

“Fireworks”, Lance mumbles next to him with that _adorable_ lisp. _Fireworkth._ Cute. “Hunk said something about fireworks earlier”

“He did?” Keith watches as the yard fills with people. They all gather either on or just in front of the patio, packed tightly. Matt is the very middle, eyes beaming like a child.

“Yeah”, Lance edges closer, his thighs are warm against Keith´s. His coat feels soft. Is it real fur? Lance hands him back the bottle, Keith takes a swig.

His stomach expresses an opinion, namely that this is more than enough berry wine. The last time he was this drunk, he woke up naked in an unfamiliar bed. And that was a _while_ ago. But Keith needs alcohol to cope with that weird nervous feeling he keeps having, especially now that Lance´s thigh is pressed against his. Lance nudges his side, making Keith jump.

“Look, it´s starting!”

It is indeed. Hunk has ignited the glass bottles; their fillings are softly glowing. The crowd collectively holds their breath as purple rays of light begin to emerge from the very center, twirling and twisting the way vines grow towards the sun, then _poof –_ a shower of tiny purple stars rains down on everyone. Lance gasps softly, his hand lands on Keith´s thigh.

And then the whole yard just fucking explodes.

Rays of light and shooting stars of all colors imaginable brighten up the dark, dancing and fighting each other over who can be the brightest. It´s like being inside a dying star, like a galaxy of rainbows has settles over them, _in_ them. The colors reflect in Lance´s eyes, or maybe they sparkle like that just by themselves. His hand is heavy on Keith´s thigh and at the same time, too light, a featherweight. Keith laces their fingers together just to make sure that Lance is real. He is, too, and he turns to Keith with a beaming smile and those sparkling eyes, just for a heartbeat before being pulled in again by that spectacle of light and color. His palm is soft against Keith´s, his fingers cool as he tightens them, so gently that Keith´s dazed mind barely registers.

Afterwards, when the lights and the applause are over, Keith feels like he blacked out. He feels sedated, a different kind of drunk. Lance is slumped against him, quietly giggling to himself. He´s taken his coat off at some point, exposing delicate shoulders.

“Wasn´t that pretty?”, he giggles, “I´ve never seen anything like it before”

Keith´s tongue is heavy, but he answers nonetheless. “Me neither” The bottle is heavy in his hand even though it´s empty. “Hunk and Pidge really outdid themselves”

“Oh, definitely” Lance sits up straight, leaving Keith´s shoulder exposed to the cool night. He´s still holding Keith´s hand. Someone calls his name, he looks over to the house. Two figures are out on the patio, their hair and skin marks glowing white in the dark. Lotor and Allura, Keith thinks sluggishly. Next thing he knows, Lance lets go of his hand, stands up, and calls back to them. He doesn’t look happy when he turns back to Keith. “It was really nice to meet you”, he says, lisp strong, and then he turns around and marches toward the house.

Keith blinks. Now back on earth, his mind is moving at snail speed and Lance is already halfway across the yard when Keith´s eyes fall onto the fur coat still draped over the armrest of the bench. His knees almost buckle as he stands up, grabs the fur – it´s _incredibly_ soft – and begins to run after Lance.

“Your coat”, he tells him a little breathlessly after catching him by the shoulder. Lance´s surprised expression turns soft and he takes the coat from Keith.

“Thank you” His smile is warm and sweet like elderberries. They lock eyes – there´s a spark in Lance´s that Keith can´t quite grasp – but it´s brief and Lance begins walking again as Lotor calls for him.

Keith is left alone in the yard, with tingling hands and glowing cheeks, his heart pounding and his lips twitching.

* * *

 

The next day is a Sunday and Keith´s hangover induced sleep is rudely interrupted by the doorbell. Groaning and with sluggish limps he rolls out of bed, drags his bare feet on the way to the door. His head feels heavy enough to have his own gravitational field, he fumbles with the key as he unlocks the door. Seeing who is outside wakes him up immediately.

“Lance?!”

“Hey” Lance softly smiles at him. His lips are bare, their natural color a soft pink. He´s wearing that fur coat again, over jeans and a simple blue t-shirt. “Can I come in?”

“Sure” Keith steps aside, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. His hair probably looks like a rat´s nest. What the hell is Lance doing here? “Did something happen?”, he asks as he closes the door behind Lance.

Lance just gives him a strange look, toes off his sneakers. He doesn’t hang up his coat though.

Keith stares at him for a moment, then shrugs and sets course on the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He motions for Lance to take a seat at the tiny kitchen table he once stole from a yard sale, then smacks his coffee maker to wake it up. “So”, he says as he sits down opposite Lance with two steaming mugs. “What brings you to my humble home?”

Lance reaches into his pocket, then holds out a flat palm.

Keith squints. “Is that – is that an _engagement ring?”_

Lance gives him a soft smile. “I thought we should get married by human customs as well”


	2. Keith Gets Panicky and Lance Gets Attention - Neither of Them Asked for It

“ _What_?!” Keith stares at the ring in Lance´s hand, his coffee and headache completely forgotten. “What do you mean, _married_?!”

“When you gave me my pelt” Lance is still holding out the ring, though his smile is slowly fading. A crease forms between his eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Keith is completely stunned. “It´s just a coat!”

“It´s my _pelt_ ” The crease deepens. “I´m a selkie, Keith. And you married me last night”

Keith kicks him out of the apartment.

He leans against the closed door with his full weight, as if to make sure Lance stays _out_ , and runs a hand through his hair, tearing out a few strands. He needs to clear his head. This is all a bit too much. Keith presses his ear to the door to make sure Lance really is gone; then finds himself by the open kitchen window just seconds later, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

Okay. These are the facts: Lance is a selkie. Keith accidentally married Lance by selkie customs. They barely know each other. Keith is _not_ ready for marriage.

Keith flicks the cigarette bud out of the window and calls his brother.

Shiro picks up after a few agonizing rings. “Keith?” He sounds like he´s been awake since the early mourning hours, probably even got some work done already. How dare he have his life together like this. “What´s up?”

“Shiro,” Keith´s voice sounds hollow. “I fucked up” He rattles off the facts.

“You _married_ Lance?” Shiro sounds like he´s trying not to laugh.

“I didn’t mean to!” Keith groans, lighting another cigarette. “I didn’t know he was a selkie!”

“You didn’t- Keith how did you not know that? He literally wore his pelt! Said he lived by the sea!” Shiro is laughing now.

Keith sharply exhales, his eyes follow the smoke as it trails out the window. “Can´t you just help me? I don’t think I´m ready for marriage, Shiro, no scratch that, I _know_ I´m not fucking ready”

“Alright, alright”, Shiro says, no longer laughing. “I´ll see what I can find out and call you. You should have breakfast”, he adds, “and a cigarette is not breakfast” And _click,_ he´s gone.

Keith sighs out the last bit of smoke, then stubs out the cigarette and flicks the dub out onto the street. Might as well have breakfast now. He´s too worked up for any research, too impatient. A quick dig through his pantry tells him that he has the broad variety of _zero_ options available, so he grudgingly gets dressed. His pet´s bowl is quickly filled, but the wolf doesn’t even open his eyes. He had to stay up late last night to watch Drunk Keith bang his knee on every piece of furniture in the apartment – god knows there aren’t many. Keith scratches him between the ears, then goes to put on his boots. Living downtown has its perks, he can walk. Taking the bike probably isn’t a smart idea with his hangover anyway. There´s a bakery just down the street so Keith goes to buy himself a bagel, even treats himself to a cupcake. He sits down to eat it in a small park, does some people-watching. A young couple on the bench next to his makes a cold shiver run down his back. Is that going to be him? Is he going to share his life with a _stranger_? Because that´s what Lance is, a stranger. And Keith isn’t exactly an extrovert. It´s a miracle he has even some friends and not even them he´s very close to.

Fuck, what is he going to do?

“He _kicked me out,_ Veronica”, Lance complains, flinging another handful of pebbles into the sea.

“I´m sure he´s just overwhelmed”, his sister assures him, “You said he had no idea?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t have to throw me out”, Lance grumbles, “What if he doesn’t want to be married? I already told mamaí and dadaí about it! And they told the whole pod!”

“Yeah, you probably rushed into that a little” Veronica doesn’t even bother to hide her grin. “One second” She jumps to her feet and runs over to lift a baby seal onto the flat rocks. The seal sheds its pelt, revealing a young boy, she ruffles his hair. Then she teeters back over, trying not to get her sneakers wet. “So did they tell you to move out yet?”

“Not yet, but it´ll probably happen today” Lance hurls another fistful of rocks. Married selkies don’t typically live with their pond anymore and space is always limited. “Where should I go if Keith doesn’t want me?”

“Can´t you stay with those elves again? You´re there all the time anyway”

Lance shudders. “Not if I can avoid it” It´s not that he doesn’t _like_ Lotor and Allura, it´s just that he´s not the biggest fan of being sandwiched every night, despite his reputation.

Veronica frowns. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Lance quickly shakes his head. “No, no, don’t worry about it. God, no” _He can handle it._

She squints at him for a moment, then sighs. “You should probably just give Keith some time”, she says, stretching out her long legs on the rock. “I´m sure he´ll come around”

Lance stares out at the sea, wild and grey. His home. “I hope so”

A total of eleven people have congratulated him on his marriage before noon alone. Some sincere, like his grandmother or his eldest sister, and some jokingly and in disbelief, like his cousins. Lance endures both. Fear gnaws at his bones, makes him sick. Does Keith not want him? Is he not good enough to be marriage material? Is he going to be a toy forever?

When noon rolls around and the pod gathers for lunch Lance can´t take it anymore. He slips away from his siblings and silently disappears through the bushes. Their bay got a bus stop a few years ago, so people without private means of transportation could also come hourly to cry seven tears into the ocean. Hurray. But it does come in handy sometimes. Lance accepts the mild concussion as he rests his head against the bus window, staring into space. Lotor and Allura live in the city´s most elvish district, Arus, which is the furthest from the sea, so Lance has to change buses a few times. Their modern townhouse is big enough to also house their alchemy lab and their yard blooms with the most beautiful flowers. Lance knows the neighbors envy them. Judging by the sleek white car in the driveway, at least one of them is home, so Lance rings the doorbell. He doesn’t like using his spare key.

 Allura opens the door. “Lance, what a pleasant surprise” Her accent makes it sound like _Lonce_. She smiles down at him. Her white hair frames her face in perfect curls and she´s in a pale pink dress that looks far too light for the beginning of autumn. Elves are good at handling low temperatures, even better than selkies. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Keith? Did you come to get your stuff?”

Too many questions. Lance decides to answer none of them. “Can I come in?”

“Of course” she steps aside to let him in, closes the door behind him.

“I hope I´m not bothering you” Lance unlaces his sneakers, toes them off. The house smells like baked good (something elvish) and like flowers and herbal oils. It´s clean as always, not a speck of dust on the white furniture, the hardwood floors are swept clean, there´s nothing lying around. Elf households are surreal places. Like enchanted Ikea show rooms. “Is Lotor home?”

“He´s in the lab downstairs” Allura leads the way through the kitchen and into the living room, hands Lance a mug of freshly brewed tea on the way – _how is she always this perfectly organized? –_ and gracefully drops into an armchair. Lance sits down on the couch, clumsily adjusting his pelt. He usually drops it off by the door, but now that he´s married- “How did it go with Keith?”, Allura asks.

“Terrible”, Lance admits, “he kicked me out. I don’t think he wants me”

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “I´m sure he´s just overwhelmed. He was the one to initiate it, after all”

“I think he didn’t mean to” Lance wraps his hands around his mug, resting his elbows on his knees. His head drops in resignation. He sighs. “Allura, what am I going to do? I can´t go back to the pod and if he doesn’t want me…”

“You are always welcome here” Allura lays a hand on his shoulder, her touch feels like an electric shock. Elvish magic. It drives Lance crazy sometimes.

“Thanks” But he doesn’t want to stay.

“Lance?”, a voice asks from behind him. Lotor has emerged from the lab, the cellar door gapes at Lance from behind him. He closes it. His hair is tied back, he tugs thick leather gloves off his long fingers. “What are you doing here?”

Allura answers for him. “Keith rejected him”

Lotor´s face turns soft. “Oh no” He sits down on the couch, wraps his arm around Lance, making a shudder run through him. “Did he really?”

Lance nods, tapping his index finger against his mug. “I don’t know what to do”, he says quietly. “Veronica says I should just give him some time and then he´ll come around”

He hears Lotor inhale but it´s Allura who speaks first. “I think she´s right”, she says warmly, “And you can stay here until you have it figured out”

Lotor squeezes his shoulder in support.

Lance can´t bring himself to thank them.

“Okay, I did some research”, Shiro tells Keith after letting him in. Keith has taken his bike out to Kerberos after Shiro _finally_ called him back.

“Tell me” Keith unlaces his boots, shrugs of his gear. He sets his helmet on top of the pile, which promptly collapses. Keith stares at it in dismay. Can nothing go right today?

They go sit in the living room. Adam is working on his desk by the window, it looks like he´s grading papers. Keith greets him, he mumbles a hello.

“Seventh grade astrology class”, Shiro explains, coming to rest on the couch.

“My condolences” Keith plops down next to him, propping his feet up on the edge of the edge of the glass coffee table. He loves Shiro and Adam´s place, it´s so cozy.

“Trotters off”, Shiro orders, grabbing his tablet off the table.

“ _Trotters_?”, Keith snorts, “What are you, sixty?” But he does take his feet off, crosses his ankles under the table instead.

Shiro rolls his eyes at him, taps something into his tablet. “Okay” He pulls up a series of screenshots. He reads one of them out loud. “ _Selkie marriages are contracted by the pelt being voluntarily handed to the selkie by a non-selkie individual before at least one witness_.” He looks at Keith. “Were there witnesses?”

Keith sighs in resignation. “Lotor and Allura Altea”

Shiro nods, then continues. “Selkie marriages are legitimate marriages, but they are technically not legally binding, you know, like church weddings without a civil ceremony. So before the law, you´re not married”

Keith lets out a relieved exhale, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“ _But”,_ Shiro objects and Keith´s fingers immediately clench again, “There is a moral obligation to it” He squints at his tablet. “According to Pelts-And-Pods.com, _the selkie will usually leave their pod and go to live with their new partner_ ” He looks at Keith from underneath furrowed eyebrows, with stern grey eyes. “To society”, he says firmly, “you guys are married”

“How do I undo it” is the first thing out of Keith´s mouth.

Shiro looks at him with something resembling disappointment. “Keith”, he says softly, then bites his lip.

Keith raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

It´s Adam who speaks next, getting up from his desk to take a seat in an armchair. He rests his feet on the coffee table, earning an annoyed look from Shiro he completely ignores. “We think you should maybe give Lance a shot”

“I´m a little disappointed you didn’t say `give Lance a _chance´_ ”, Shiro mumbles.

“God damnit, Takashi, I´m trying to take this seriously” Adam throws a pillow at him, which Shiro catches with ease.

“What do you mean, give `Lance a shot´?”, Keith asks leerily.

“You should give this marriage try” Shiro stuffs the pillow behind his back. “We think it may be good for you”

Keith looks at him in bewilderment. “Are you serious?”

“Lance seems like a really good guy” Adam leans forward in his seat. He does indeed look very serious. And so does Shiro. Keith has to actively battle his fight or flight instinct.

“I don’t even know him!” He keeps looking back and forth between Adam and Shiro, completely flabbergasted by what they are proposing. “And you want me to _marry_ him?”

“Well, technically you´re already married”, Adam mumbles and Keith flings the pillow back at him, almost knocking his glasses off his nose.

“I know that!”, he snaps, “but why the _fuck_ would I _stay_ married to him?!”

Shiro sighs, lays a calming hand on his scowling brother´s shoulder, his flesh one. “Keith, look”, he says quietly, “ending a marriage is logistical hell, even if you´re just annulling it. You should at least try it out first.” When Keith just shrugs, he takes a different approach. “Lance is likely to get disowned by his pod”, he mumbles, “selkies take great pride in their relationships and being rejected means incredible shame to them”

“I feel like you´re blackmailing me”, Keith says. He chews on his lower lip. He doesn’t want Lance to be disowned and especially not because of him. But _marriage_?

“Keith, I know this is a big step”, Adam interposes, his voice soft and sincere, “And I know you have a hard time getting close to people, but I feel like you two really had chemistry and maybe it´s time for you to take a risk on someone”

Keith stares at his feet, working his jaw in silence. He _knows_ that they mean well and he can´t deny that he _likes_ Lance, but- “No”, he says.

Adam´s shoulder´s visibly drop, Shiro sighs. “Okay”, his brother says bleakly, “it´s your choice. Just promise me that you won´t let him sleep out on the street, okay?”

Keith nods, his brain feels heavy. “Of course”, he manages, “I promise”

Allura has to leave for a city council meeting, leaving Lance at home with Lotor. They go out into the back yard, sit on the Hollywood swing. The first leaves have begun to fall, dying the trees in fiery colors. Lance is glad for his pelt, wants to hide himself inside it. Lotor fully embraces his elf-genes, sitting out here barefoot in just a mauve shirt and white slacks.

“It truly is a shame that you´re married now”, he says nonchalantly, “and it´s an even bigger shame that he doesn’t appreciate you”

“We´ll see”, Lance replies stubbornly, “He might just need some time”

“He might”, Lotor agrees, though it doesn’t seem sincere. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No” Lance´s stomach rumbles in agreement. “I missed lunch with the pod”

“We could drive out to Baku”, Lotor suggests, “Maybe get some sushi”

Baku is the city´s district with the highest population of merfolk, mostly because it was built along an inlet. “But Baku´s at the other end of the city”, Lance objects.

Lotor lays a heavy hand on his shoulder, the electric shock reaches him even through the pelt. “Anything to make you happy”

Lance´s stomach rumbles again. “Alright”, he gives in, “but is it okay if I get changed first?”

All of Lance´s belongings are stored at Lotor and Allura´s house. It´s mostly clothes, which selkies traditionally don’t wear, but Lance and a few others his age have picked up this _very human habit,_ as his mamaí likes to call it. Veronica keeps hers in a waterproof suitcase at the bay, a few others share a small shed. Lance keeps his in a drawer in their closet, not that he owns much. He makes sure to close the door behind him before he undresses, exchanging his jeans and t-shirt for clean ones that don’t smell like saltwater and wet seals. He briefly thinks about applying lipstick, then tosses out the idea. It might give _someone_ the wrong ideas.

Lotor is waiting for him downstairs, shoes already on and keys in hand. They take the car, Lance plays with the radio until he finds a station playing human music. Lotor doesn’t try to talk to him, he lets him sing along in peace while they roll through traffic agonizingly slowly. As they make their way through Ariel, the town´s center, Lance can see Keith´s house. He bites his lip, wonders if Keith is home. A few streets over, a façade catches his eye. _The Blade of Marmora,_ a sign says in black letters and a neon sign underneath announces _tattoos and piercings._ That must be where Keith works, he thinks. _Bad Boy_.

Baku is wonderful as always and they have no problem finding a sushi place. Usually, Lance would insist on strolling around a little afterwards, buying weird seafood or taking a walk along the inlet, looking at the beautiful architecture that connects living underwater to living on dry land. But today they get their sushi platter to go and then fight their way back home through traffic.

Lance doesn’t spare Ariel a single look this time.

They eat in the living room, on the couch. Lotor has found a documentary about werewolves with pet hair allergy and it provides enough background noise for them to not talk. Lotor´s phone rings just as the narrator describes the efficiency of trimming your extensive body hair in gruesome detail.

“Ugh, Ezor”, he complains and turns it off. Ezor is one of his four assistants. Lotor has inherited a pharmaceutical empire at the age of just 18, after his father´s suspiciously sudden death. Lance doesn’t know much about it, only that it´s the only provider of a product called _Quintessence™,_ which is supposed to help strengthen the body´s natural magic. And that Lotor is working to combine it with his findings in the field of alchemy.

“If she´s calling on a Sunday, it´s probably important”, Lance says through a mouthful of salmon.

“You´re more important”, Lotor decides, “She´ll figure it out”

Lance doesn’t answer, focusses on eating instead. He should be with his husband right now, but Keith doesn’t want him. He sniffles. This is so damn humiliating.

“Are you alright?” Lotor asks from beside him. He lays a hand on his thigh.

“Yeah, it´s just-“, Lance sniffles, “He doesn’t want me”

“Well, he´s a fool” Lotor leans in close, his breath tickles Lance´s cheek. “He´s a fool not to want you” His lips send a shockwave through Lance as they land on his cheek.

“Lotor”, Lance mumbles as Lotor lays a hand on his cheek, turns his head towards him. “Lotor, I´m married”

“But he doesn’t want you” Lotor pecks his lips, Lance shudders. “He rejected you” He pulls him in, Lance squirms.

“Still”, he insists after pulling away. “It´s not right”

Lotor sighs in annoyance, drops back into the couch cushions. “Fine”, he snaps. His phone rings again.

“You should probably take that”, Lance says quietly.

Lotor rolls his eyes at him but gets up to answer his phone out on the patio.

As soon as he´s outside, Lance grabs his pelt and shoes and quietly leaves the house.

Keith doesn’t get home until late that evening, Shiro convinced him to stay for dinner. They didn’t talk about Lance, their marriage or possible disownment again. Not that it would have made a difference to Keith, he can´t get it out of his head. He´s so distracted on his way home, he almost runs over an old lady and her pet griffin crossing the street in the dark. His neighbors on the first floor are fighting again, he can hear them as he enters from the underground parking garage, they yell, a glass shatters. Keith sighs and trudges up the stairs. If this is what marriage is like, he doesn’t want it. There´s no sign of Lance having been here while he was gone, no note or anything. Keith doesn’t know what he expected. He unlocks the door; his wolf greets him with excitement. “Hey, buddy”, Keith kneels to scratch him behind the ears, gets his face licked in response. “You want to go for a walk?” He gets his answer when his pet teleports into the hallway, glowing excitedly. “Alright”, Keith laughs, wiping his face. “Let´s go”

The wolf is excited to be outside, jumping and teleporting all over the park, chasing small dragons and wild gnomes. Keith watches him, the wind whipping his hair around. The wolf, apart from Adam and Shiro, is all he has. And the Blade of Marmora, of course, they´re like a big family, but Keith still can´t help feeling lonely when he´s alone in bed at night. Shiro has built his own life with Adam, the Blades are great but he´s mostly connected to them through work and his wolf isn’t the cuddliest pet.

Keith can´t deny it, he´s lonely.

The thought still haunts his mind when he returns home to find Lance sitting by his door.


	3. Lance Has A Sad Past - Keith Has A Sad Mind

“Lance”, Keith says, grabbing his wolf by the hackles so he can´t charge at Lance and lick his face off. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Lance nods, gets to his feet. “Fine”, he says, though the shadows under his eyes say otherwise. “I just thought-“, he runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up all funny, “I thought maybe we could talk?”

“Sure”, Keith says as neutrally as possible and fumbles with his keys to try and unlock the door with one hand. The wolf is the first to storm inside, racing to drain his water bowl. Keith motions for Lance to step inside, then follows. “Can I offer you anything?”

Lance shakes his head. “I´m good” They take their shoes off, then step over the wolf to sit at the tiny kitchen table. One leg is shorter than the rest, making it a little wobbly. “So”, Lance begins, then trails off.

“Yeah…” Keith doesn’t know what to say either. “We´re married”, he states the obvious.

“Yep” Lance nods, his eyes fixed on the table. They stay silent for a while, staring at the many stains and scratches on the table surface. It´s Lance who speaks again first. “You don’t want me”

“It´s- it´s not that”, Keith tries, “I´m just not ready to get married, especially not to a virtual stranger” He feels like shit for having to tell Lance this.

“I get that”, the selkie says quietly, “but what now?”

 _We should end it before it´s too late_ , Keith wants to say and immediately feels even worse when he remembers what Shiro told him earlier. “Will your family really disown you for being rejected?”

“Probably” Lance sounds bitter. “I can´t go back either way”

“I know”, Keith mumbles, “I asked my brother to do some research”

That sends a small smile onto Lance´s face, a cute little smile. It doesn’t stay long though. “Do you want us to get a divorce?”

“We´re not legally married”, Keith explains, “Only societal. But even alluding a marriage is logistical hell”, he cites Shiro.

“You really did do your research”, Lance mumbles, sounding half-amused, half-depressed. “Do you want to allude our marriage?”

 _Yes_. “I don’t know”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know”

“Oh” Lance chews on his lip. “I don’t know either”

They stare through each other for a few heartbeats, Lance chewing on, Keith tugging at his lip.

“Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”, Keith asks quietly.

Lance shakes his head, avoiding his eyes.

“You can sleep here, if you want” Keith´s voice is now barely audible. “I mean, it´s kind of my fault you can´t go back home”

Lance looks up, a smile splits his face. “Thank you”, he whispers. His cheeks are tinted a soft pink.

Keith´s apartment is small and poorly furnished, with creaking hardwood floors and a _fantastic_ view of a parking lot. It smells like dog and ash and Keith and Lance _loves_ it. Followed by the wolf he wanders through all the rooms, takes a peak in every drawer, jar or shelf – he can´t help it, he loves human places. His tour doesn’t take long and when he ends up in the kitchen again, Keith looks at him with amusement. He is standing by the open window, cigarette in hand.

“What?” Lance arranges his pelt as he sits down on one of the Two (2) chairs Keith owns.

Keith nods towards the wolf, now curled up at Lance´s feet. “He likes you”

Lance rubs his bare foot over the wolf´s back, petting him. “Does he have a name?”

“No, not really” Keith takes a long drag. “Just _wolf_ ”

Lance nods slowly. His eyes are fixed on the cigarette. “Do you smoke a lot?”

“Depends” Keith stubs the cigarette out _in his bare fucking palm, what the hell,_ then flicks it out the window. “I smoke more when I´m stressed or anything like that”

“Did I stress you out?” Lance asks quietly, still foot-petting the wolf.

Keith shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I brought this on myself, didn’t I?” _Like their marriage is an illness or a problem._ “It´s getting late” He effortfully closes the window. “Should we go to bed?”

Keith lends Lance a pair of sweatpants and a top to sleep in, but he doesn’t have a spare toothbrush, so Lance just washes his mouth out with a drop of toothpaste.

“Should I sleep on the couch?”, Lance asks when Keith steps out of the bathroom, now in pajama pants and a shirt so baggy it slips off his shoulder.

Keith shakes his head. “Couch´s fucked”, he says, combing through his long hair with his fingers. “We can share, if that´s okay with you”

“Sure”, Lance says a little too quickly. He watches nervously as Keith opens the window. The wolf trots in through the open door, curls up on a blanket by the foot of the bed. “Uh, which side do you want? Of the bed?”

“Lance, just lay down”, Keith yawns, “we´ll figure it out”

Lance does as he is told, climbs onto the bed and starts making himself comfortable near the wall. The bed creaks as Keith flops down next to him. Lance tries to steady his heartbeat while Keith fumbles with the blanket, spreading it over the both of them.

“Sorry,” he yawns again, “I only have one blanket”

“No problem”, Lance yawns back, but it turns out that _yes problem,_ because once Keith rolls over, Lance gets de-blanketed. Sighing, he sits up and climbs over Keith.

“Whaddareyou doing?”, the mob of black hair mumbles, just as Lance has a knee planted on each side of his waist.

“Getting a blanket”, Lance says and grabs his pelt from where he had left it earlier, neatly folded under a pile of his clothes.

 “Smart”, the hair mumbles when Lance climbs back and wraps himself up like a fuzzy burrito, nestling against the wall.

The bed is warm and comfortable, it smells like wolf and Keith and the sea. Lance listens to Keith breathe, hears him fall asleep. The wolf whimpers in his sleep, Keith twitches. Traffic outside. Keith sighs, rolls onto his back. Lance can see his face in the light that falls through the window. It´s pretty, with an upturned nose and the tiniest smile on his rosy lips. Long lashes. The thick, red, scar that runs down his right cheek and down his neck. Lance props himself up on his elbow, follows the scar with his eyes. It ends just underneath his collarbone. Lance wonders where it came from. He reaches out, trails it with one finger without actually touching Keith, jerks back when his eyelids flutter. A car honks outside. Lance decides to try and go to sleep.  

The bed is empty when he wakes up, the mattress cold. The bedroom door is open a notch. Lance sits up. He needs a moment to remember where he is and when he does it makes him smile. He forces himself out of bed, washes his face, gets dressed. He finds Keith in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone with a coffee in his hand.

“Morning” He puts down his phone. “Coffee?” He pours Lance a cup. “Milk is in the fridge, sugar´s over there” He nods towards the pantry.

Lance adds both, then takes a sip. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, you?” Keith´s hair is still a mess, sticking up in every possible direction. Lance wants to run his hands through it, it looks soft.

“I slept alright”, he says, sipping his coffee.

“Did the traffic bother you? I know I can get pretty noisy sometimes, that´s the joy of living in Ariel-“

Lance waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, I´ve had worse”

“Really?” Keith raises his eyebrows tauntingly. “What was the worst place you´ve slept at?”

“The bench of a bus stop in Daibazaal”, Lance says without missing a beat. Daibazaal was without doubt the city´s _worst_ district. You can walk approximately three meters until you either get mugged, stabbed or coated in very sticky liquid (don’t ask). “Took me hours to wash the smell out of my pelt”

Keith looked impressed. “Why the fuck would you sleep there?”, he asks with a hint of amusement, looking at Lance over the rim of his mug. Lance feels his cheeks heat up.

“I missed the last bus to Arus and there wasn’t one out to the bay yet”

“Wait, when was that?”, Keith asks, suddenly alarmed. “Busses have been going out there for _years”_

Lance thinks for a moment, counting on his fingers. “Like seven years ago?”

Keith´s jaw drops. “ _Seven years?_ So you were what, seventeen?”

“Sixteen, actually”, Lance replies casually, not really sure what Keith is on about.

“And you were there, because…?”

“Because some guy cried seven tears into the sea and then took me home with him”

Keith looks like he´s about to throw up. He sets his mug down, rubs both his face with both hands. “Fuck…”, he mumbles, voice muffled by his palm. His eyebrows are furrowed when his hands uncover them again. “Can you- can you still be summoned? You know, with the tears?”

Lance shakes his head. “You can´t summon a married selkie”

Keith audibly exhales. There´s a look in his eyes Lance can´t quite fathom, it´s wild and sad and relieved all at the same time. He drains his coffee mug and places it in the sink, combing his hair with his fingers. It helps fix his bedhead a little. “Look, I have to go to work now”, he says and Lance nods. He is waiting for Keith to tell him to leave. But Keith tells him something entirely different. “I found a spare key” He points at the table. “You can eat whatever you find, but I don’t have much” He huffs out a grin. “I thought we could go shopping later. And I´m sure the wolf would appreciate a walk, there´s a park just around the corner. But be careful, he likes to teleport”

Lance just nods, a little overwhelmed. He follows Keith to the door, watches him buckle up his boots, the wolf warming his left calf. “Thank you”, he manages when Keith is already half out of the door.

He turns back around, a small smile on his lips. “I may not be ready for a husband”, he says quietly, “but I´m cool with a roommate”

Keith has to fight down a blush all the way to work. God, what a crazy night. Lance showing up out of the blue, sleeping in his bed, in _Keith´s bed_ , with his warm body and soft pelt and the way he sighs in his sleep and make grabby hands at the pillow- Keith trips over his own feet and bumps into a troll with a suit and briefcase. “Sorry”, he mumbles and the troll just grunts. Keith shakes his head, tries to focus on the city around him, instead of Lance. He likes to walk the short distance to work, because traffic is hell and the cool morning air wakes him up all the way. The city is already buzzing, cars are honking their way through the rush hour, people are hurrying along the sidewalks, shops and cafés are opening. It´s all so different from the calm suburb that is Kerberos, so much more _exciting_. Keith loves it. He buries his fists in his hoodie´s kangaroo pouch, walks with a steady pace. The parlor is less than a two-minute walk from his apartment, but he´s still not the first one to arrive. Thace is already there when he steps inside, waking up the coffee maker.

“Morning”, Keith greets him, earning a small grunt. Like most lycanthropes, Thace is not a morning person.

He sniffs Keith as he walks by and announces. “You smell like saltwater”

“And is that a crime or something?” Keith asks and tries to find today´s schedule on the info table. “Thace, this thing is a mess”

“Desk is Kolivan´s job”, Thace grunts and drains a cup of boiling hot black coffee without even flinching, then turns to make another.

Keith sighs and begins to sort the papers into different piles, eventually finding the schedule and putting it up on the pinboard. “Where is Kolivan anyway?”

“Here!” A deep voice answers from the door. Kolivan, a bear of a man with a long gray braid, enters the parlor, boots heavy on the black tiles. His gaze hardens as it falls on the desk. “Who the fuck messed with my desk?”

Keith takes this opportunity to quietly slip into the back room.

He only emerges again when he hears the other´s voices – Ulaz, Antok and Regris. They´re gathered around the coffee maker and it looks like Ulaz brought bagels.

“Keith!”, he booms as he spots him, thrusting a bagel into his direction.

Keith takes it. Ever since the Blades heard about his father they seem to all be mother henning aggressively, but he can´t seem to make them stop. It´s a good bagel though. “What are you guys all doing here?”, Keith asks through a mouthful of poppy seed. They usually work in shifts and only gather for meetings, but Keith doesn’t know of any meeting scheduled for today.

“We have something to discuss”, Kolivan replies over the chewing noise. “It doesn’t concern you, Keith”

Keith swallowed his bite. “I want to know what´s going on!”

“And we want to know what´s going on with you smelling like the sea breeze all of a sudden”, Thace intervenes, disrupting Keith and Kolivan´s staring contest. “Did you buy an air freshener?”

“Someone slept over at my place”, Keith replies, arms crossed and the bagel forgotten in his hand. “A friend” _Husband._

“Ah.” Thace´s paternal smile mirrors Kolivan´s, the rest of the Blades just snicker into  their breakfast.

Keith stuffs his mouth with bagel to avoid insulting anyone. Or worse, tell them.

Lance has found a total of two crackers, a very old apple, half a Tetra Pak of milk and a bag of dog food in his elaborate raid of the kitchen. Keith was right; they need to go grocery shopping. ASAP. It´s past noon already and Lance hasn´t eaten anything yet. He is vaguely aware a few food places down the street, but he doesn’t have any money, either. He only has a phone (waterproof, of course) and the clothes on his back. Maybe he can flirt with a few cashiers? God knows Lance is no stranger to prostitution. But he´s also married and even if Keith doesn’t want him, Lance needs to maintain at least some of his dignity.

The wolf brushes against his leg in an attempt to get to his water bowl. When he finds it empty, he jabs it with his snout. _Clang_.

Lance chuckles. “I feel you buddy” He bends down and picks up the bowl, fills it with tap water. It smells metallic, different than that from the Altean´s tap and lightyears away from the sea. He considers taking a sip before he puts the bowl back down but decides against it. It´s the wolf´s, not his.

He drinks from the tap, frowns at the taste. It tastes unnatural. He tries the milk next, just a tiny careful sip. Also weird, but not necessarily bad. He drinks some more, just a little, so they still have a rest left for breakfast tomorrow. Lance knows how to save food; there was an oil spill just miles from their bay a few years ago and they had caught poisoned fish for months. His pod lost their great grandmother Rosa that year. The city council had barely cared, that was before Allura´s father was elected mayor. Things were better now, with him. He seems nice. Lance has never met him.

He nibbles on one of the crackers, which tastes like lightly salted nothing. He´s bored. He tried reading one of the books earlier, but they´re all about knifes and runes and occult art and Lance doesn’t understand them. Maybe he could build a house of cards.

Keith calls Shiro during his smoke break. He paces up and down the alleyway behind the parlor, listening to the dialing tone. There is noise in the background when Shiro answers.

“Keith? What is it?”

“Lance is at my place right now”, Keith gets straight to the point, “He showed up last night and wanted to talk and- I guess we´re roommates now?”

“Congratulations!” Shiro sound genuinely excited. “Adam, listen”, Keith hears him call out, “Keith and Lance are roommates now!”

“Oh my god, they were roommates”, Adam replies in the distance. Shiro snickers.

“And did you talk?”, he asks.

“Yeah”, Keith takes a last drag, then crushes the bud under his boot. “But we´re not sure what to do yet”

“I´m sure you´ll figure it out” Shiro is smiling, Keith can hear it. “Listen, I gotta go, but I´ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay, bye”

_Click._

The queen of hearts is missing from the deck, but the house of cards is stable nonetheless. Lance has to stand on a chair to place the last two cards at the tip of the tower. He leans them against each other, then lets go and freezes. The tower remains substantial. Then the wolf sneezes. And the building collapses. Lance sighs. “Damnit”, he says, out loud. The apartment isn’t big enough for his voice to echo, and it seems to be getting smaller every second. Lance usually isn’t inside for so long. He steps off the chair, gathers up the cards. The wolf nudges his leg. He teleports across the flat, barks at the front door, then zaps back to Lance.

Lance kneels in front the wolf, maintaining eye contact. “Look”, he says firmly, “I want to go for a walk as much as you do. But I need you to be a good boy, okay?”

The wolf remains unimpressed.

Lance sighs and stands up, grabbing the leash off a coat hook and promptly realizing that the wolf doesn’t even have a collar. He reluctantly puts the leash back. “Be a good boy”, he repeats and opens the door.

The wolf teleports past him and is already halfway down the stairs when Lance is done locking the door. He seems to know the way to the park and all Lance can do is run after him, frantically apologizing to every pedestrian he accidentally bumps into. He almost loses the wolf at a red light but quickly catches up to it again, his excellent selkie nose being a great advantage. He reaches the park after a small sprint, the wolf is already there and chasing a flock of birds.

The smell of grass feels amazing in Lance´s nose, along with exhaust gases and something deep fried and people, hundreds of people, and Lance can´t help but laugh, he stands in the middle of the park and just _laughs_ , because of how crazy it is that two days ago, he was being manhandled by some stranger in a parking lot in Reiphod and today he´s in a park in Ariel, walking the pet of a guy he barely knows but that he´s _married_ _to_ and the air is crisp and he doesn’t have to perform for anyone, he can just _be_ and isn’t that more than enough reason to laugh?

Strangers give him a few weird looks but it´s not like Lance isn’t used to that and he barely even notices anymore. He´s not wearing his pelt today, it attracts a lot of unwanted attention, so he left it at the apartment and borrowed one of Keith´s jackets. It´s black and keeps him warm and dry in the early autumm´s soft drizzle. He buries his hand in the pockets and finds a knife there, is not even surprised by it. The apartment is full of knifes, too. Lance found them everywhere on his little tour last night. Who cares. Not Lance.

By the time Keith´s lunchbreak rolls around, he is grouchier than Oscar and ready to snarl at anyone who does as much as look at him the wrong way. Not only did the Blades exclude him from their meeting this morning for some _unknown fucking reason_ , but they also keep bugging him about `that mystery mermaid who slept over at his place´ because apparently, Thace can´t keep his mouth shut and they have nothing better to talk about. Keith flees the parlor the second he is done with his client, not even saying goodbye any of those damn tattletales. Usually, he´d just pick up some takeout, eat with the Blades, then go back to work. The wolf doesn’t need to be walked throughout the day, he just teleports outside if he needs to go. But today is different; Lance is alone at his place, there´s literally nothing left to eat in the apartment and the Blades are at a high risk to get their asses kicked today. So, Keith marches his gay ass straight home.

He finds the apartment empty.

Lance´s pelt is spread across the bed. Both Lance himself and the wolf are gone. After a brief moment of panic, Keith connects the dots: they are probably at the park. The bedroom window is still open from last night, he closes it, then checks the rest of the windows. All closed. Good. Keith prefers not to be burgled. But _oh shit_ , what if the window was open because someone _kidnapped_ Lance? Keith´s heart almost leaps out of his chest, he´s already pulled out a knife when he realizes that it is very unlikely that the kidnapper would A) not be chased away by the wolf, B) also kidnap said wolf and C) lock the front door from the outside, because that’s what that door was, _locked,_ and Keith needs to calm the fuck down. Everything is _fine._ He puts the knife away again, surprised by himself. Keith usually doesn’t freak out like that, _ever_. It´s been a rough day, maybe that´s why. His nerves are raw.

Whatever.

He goes to the park.

He spots the wolf before he spots his husband, rolling around in the grass (the wolf, not Lance). Lance is over there on a bench, under the old ash tree that´s been infested with pixies for years. He looks different without his pelt. Keith squints. Is that _his_ jacket? It looks good on him. He saunters over as casually as possible, his mood lightening with every step. Lance smiles at him as he sits down, seemingly not surprised to see him at all.

“Did you see me coming?”, Keith asks, tearing his eyes away from Lance and looking at the wolf instead.

“Smelled you”, Lance replies casually, though it would be a weird fucking thing to say if he wasn’t a selkie.

“What do I smell like?” Keith can´t help it, he looks at Lance again. His question is only half-serious, but Lance leans in close and sniffs him, Keith can feel his warmth on the exposed skin of his neck. He shivers.

“Smoke, mostly” Lance inhales deeply, through his mouth this time. It gives Keith goosebumps. “And sweat. Leather. Like my pelt.”, he chuckles lightly, it tickles, “And a little like the wolf”, he pulls away, drops against the backrest of the bench. “It´s a nice smell”

Keith turns his head to hide his blush. He likes how bold Lance is and how shy at the same time. He had no idea people could be that way. Maybe only Lance is like that. “Are you hungry?”, he asks when his cheeks have returned to their operating temperature, “I thought we could get some lunch”

Lance gifts him with a beaming smile. “Lunch sounds amazing”, he says, “I´m fucking starving”

“I´m sorry I didn’t have any food”, Keith says after they´ve dropped the wolf off at the apartment.

“Don´t worry about it” Lance unzips his jacket as they step outside. It feels like it´s gotten warmer. He left the pelt at home again. Keith notices.

“Why aren’t you wearing your pelt?” He forcefully closes the door to the apartment building. “Sorry, door´s fucked”

“Don’t want to get it dirty” _Don’t want to look like I´m your escort._ “Where are we going?”

“Depends, what are you in the mood for?” Keith looks down at him from the doorstep. His hair is wild around his face, pushed forward by his hood.

“Well, selkies usually eat a lot of fish-“, Lance begins, but Keith cuts him off.

“I didn’t ask what selkies usually eat” He hops off the doorstep. He´s still taller than Lance though. Lance blames his boots. “I asked what _you_ wanted to eat”

Lance blinks in surprise. “Italian”, he says after a moment.

Keith smiles. “Italian it is”

“But I don’t have any money”, Lance objects.

“I do”, Keith says simply. “Come on”

They walk.

“That bakery over there” Keith points at it, “sells the best fucking bagels” He slackens a little so that they can side by side. Lance shoots him a grateful smile. “And that”, Keith continues with pink cheeks after they´ve turned the corner, “is the animal shelter where I got my wolf”

 ** _M_** _agical **P** ets **F** ostering and **S** helter_ is written across the shop window in glowing letters.

“Mpfs?” Lance asks.

Keith laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think they thought that name all the way through. But the owner´s nice, I know her” He stops in his tracks. They have to cross the street.

Lance feels invisible as he follows Keith through the crowd and he loves every second of it. No dirty looks, no catcalls.

Without his pelt, he´s free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I would have uploaded sooner, but I was in Rome on a school trip and didn´t have my computer. Feel free to come talk to me about my stories or whatever else on my snapchat (danny.fandom) or my kik (DeathBoyGhostKing)!


	4. Lance Says Vol, Keith Says Vol...Mart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit of a mess, sorry

The place Keith takes him to is hidden away in a narrow alleyway between a movie theater and an apartment building. There is no indication of it being a restaurant apart from a wrought iron guild sign that looks straight up medieval. _Monsters and Mana Inn,_ it says. To others, the place would seem kind of dodgy, but Lance used to attend underground fairy raves when he was a teenager. He _knows_ dodgy.

Keith pushes open the heavy wooden door with a grunt. “After you”

Lance steps inside. The interior isn’t as ancient as he expected it to be. It´s definitely elvish, made from light wood and illuminated by glowing flowers everywhere. Merely the plank floor and the bar bespeak of what the place used to look like.

“Hello, Keith!” A tall ginger elf with an impressive mustache waves at them from behind the bar. “Who´s your friend?”

“Coran, this is Lance”, Keith introduces them, “Lance, Coran”

“Hi!” Lance waves.

Keith nudges him. “Where do you want to sit?”

There are few people in here and therefore many tables available, but Lance only has a hard time making that decision because no one has ever asked him to make it before. “There” He points at table for two, just underneath a painting of a red lion.

They sit opposite of each other, their jackets hanging over the back of their chairs. Coran comes over with two menus. At first Lance thought he was wearing roller skates like a waitress in a vintage diner, but it turns out that he just walks funnily.

Lance orders the cheapest juice he can find on the menu. He knows that water would be cheaper, but he can´t bring himself to try the Ariel tap water again. And sparkling water is just fucking weird, who would voluntarily drink that.

“God, it´s been years since I´ve last had Italian”, Lance chuckles after finally deciding on penne all´arrabbiata. The _Monsters and Mana Inn_ serves both human and elvish food, along with `specialties´ such as raw meat for werewolves or even rawer meat for vampires. “One guy took me to this pizza place once, when I was eighteen. So worth being summoned”

Keith frowns at him from across the table, puts down his menu. “How young were you when you were first summoned?”

“Fourteen”, Lance replies, a little taken aback by the shock on Keith´s face. “Other pods do it even younger”, he quickly explains, “It´s fine”

Keith nods slowly, but the crease between his eyebrows doesn’t go away. “How did you manage that? I mean, school and…” He trails off, waving his hands around.

“Oh, we just drop out”

“You _what_?” Keith´s jaw drops. “Shit…”

Lance frowns. “What?”

The corner of Keith´s mouth tics. “Don’t you think that´s a little… extreme?”

“What´s that supposed to mean?”, Lance asks coolly. This is his pod Keith is talking about, his _culture._ He has _no_ idea!

Keith leans back in his chair, dismissing him with the flick of a wrist. “Forget it”

Lance sighs exasperatedly. “Okay, I´ll _try”_

Coran wobbles back over, they order without even looking at each other. Then they sit in silence.

Keith sighs. “Look, I´m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to offend you”

Lance shrugs, eyes fixed on the table decorations. “It´s okay” Doesn’t sound like it.

Keith raises his eyebrows at him. “Really?”

Lance looks at him. His blue eyes look like the churning sea. “I mean, I´m used to it by now” He lets out a dry chuckle. “Trust me, that was nothing compared to what I´ve heard before”

“Oh really”, Keith says, suddenly agitated. “Who is saying what, tell me”, he demands. Then he blinks, surprised at the sudden need to protect Lance hitting him for the second time that day.

Lance waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing important, don’t worry about it. I can handle it”

Keith sits forward. “Lance, please”, he says quietly.

“It´s really just slut-shaming, is what it is”, Lance mumbles, picking at his fingernails, “I don’t really wanna talk about it”

“Okay”, Keith quietly gives in. He doesn’t want them to argue. Then he has an idea. “Hey, how about we take turns asking each other questions?”

Lance looks up. The corner of his mouth is twitching. “You mean like Twenty Questions?”

“Yeah!”

Lance full on grins. Finally. “Okay. Ask me, then”

“Uuuuh”, Keith tries to think of a question. “Okay, if you were an animal, which one would you be? And don’t say seal!”

Lance laughs. “That is such a basic question”, he says.

“Answer it, then”, Keith grins.

“Uuuh… a cat? A cat”, Lance decides. “Okay, my turn. What article of clothing do you feel the best in?”

“My vintage fireman´s jacket” Keith leans back as Coran sets his plate in front of him. He continues once Coran has staggered away. “When was the last time you climbed a tree?”

“That is a very specific questions”, Lance says through the steam emanating from his pasta.

“Hey, at least it´s not basic!”

“True” Lance thinks for a moment. “Last time I climbed a tree… god, that must have been more than ten years ago” They take a break to eat a little pasta, which turns into eating a lot of pasta, and by the time they continue they are more than two thirds through their meal. “What was your favorite school subject?”

“Art”, Keith replies after swallowing his mouthful of Spaghetti Bolognese, “It used to be biology, until we covered dragons…” He trails off, shrugging.

Lance narrows his eyes. “What´s wrong with dragons?”

“Nothing, it just wasn’t my thing”, Keith says hastily, “If you were crazy rich, what is the first thing you would buy?”

That Lance has to think about, so they finish their meal in silence. Keith makes sure to hide the check from him, not that it was particularly big. The Blades once did Coran some sort of favor, so now they can eat for almost nothing. Keith doesn’t know any details, but he knows that it can be very useful towards the end of the month.

“A nice apartment”, Lance says when they are back outside. “I would buy a nice big apartment, with a lot of windows and a balcony to have breakfast on”

“That´s a good choice”, Keith says and begins walking at his usual pace. He needs to be back at work soon. Lance jogs after him.

“In a nice neighborhood”, he adds. “And with a bathtub”

Lance continues to furnish his dream habitat with a walk-in closet, a bed big enough to let him sleep like a starfish and a fancy chandelier, then continues to talk about color schemes all the way to their building. Keith listens to every detail.

“Sounds fucking amazing. I´ll see you tonight, okay? I have to go back to work. We´ll go grocery shopping when I get back”, he says once Lance has finished his ingenuities a little breathlessly.

Lance nods. “Wait!”, he calls out after Keith. “I still have to ask you my question!”

Keith turns back around. “Make it quick, then”

His husband beams at him with that bold grin Keith last saw during Matt´s party. “Have you ever worn lipstick before?”, he asks, voice sweet as honey.

“No”, Keith answers, his ears warm.

Lance´s ocean eyes flick down to Keith´s lips, just for a split-second. “You should”, he smirks. Then he turns around and disappears into the house.

Keith is still standing there once the door has fallen shut, his heart pounding in his ears.

_Fuck._

Regris looks up from his client when the bell above the door jingles to announce Keith´s arrival. Only he and Ulaz are at the parlor now, both busy with respectively piercing and tattooing their client. “Well, you took your time”, Ulaz comments, despite the facts that his client is whimpering under his needle and that Keith clearly doesn’t want to talk and is instead making a beeline for his chair without even looking at them.

“Chill, my next appointment isn’t until 2:30” Keith shrugs off his jacket. “Why do you care?” He doesn’t receive an answer, just catches Regris and Ulaz shooting knowing glances at each other. Keith suppresses a groan. So what, he thinks. They don’t know anything. And they won´t find out anytime soon. Fuck them.

Keith is busy tattooing some guy´s fursona on his chest in extreme detail for the rest of the day. Luckily, Regris and Ulaz seem to take pity on him and don’t bother him with any more comments. Still, by the time the furry is wrapped in saran wrap and has finally fucked off, Keith is _exhausted_. He gives the most minimal goodbye to his fellow Blades, then he´s out the door before they start asking questions again.

He practically runs home.

He can hear the music when he unlocks the front door to the building. It takes him one and a half songs to get up to the third floor, cursing about the broken elevator under his breath. “Lance?”, he calls out when he steps into the apartment, but his voice gets lost in the music. Keith closes the door behind him. It wasn’t locked, so Lance must be here. He checks the kitchen first, no Lance. Is he okay? Why isn’t he answering?

Keith finds Lance in the living room and the wolf, too. They´re… dancing. No, really. Lance is holding the wolf´s front paws, doing a little step routine while the pet just pants at him, his tail wagging. He (Lance, not the wolf) is wearing one of Keith´s shirts, a tight black one, and it´s ridden up all the way to the small of his waist. Keith can´t help but smile. He leans against the doorframe, watching them. Lance looks adorable, his sparkling eyes fixated on the wolf, grinning widely. Keith can tell he can dance, each and every one of his movements, albeit silly, is sure and confident, from the steps of his feet to the swaying of his hips. Keith is mesmerized. He´s _married_ to this man, he realizes, to this adorable grinning _dork_ that is dancing with his pet wolf and wearing his clothes right now.

And now it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Lance doesn’t see Keith leaning against the doorframe until the song is over. Surprised, he lets go of the wolf´s paws, the pet drops to all fours and promptly charges at Keith, trying to lick his face. Lance goes over to the stereo and turns off the music. “How long have you been standing there?”, he asks Keith while fixing his shirt.

“Not long” Keith scratches the wolf behind the ears. The pet pushes past him. They hear the water bowl clangs against the kitchen tiles. Keith wipes his face with his sleeve. He´s still in his boots and jacket. “You looked like you were having fun”

“I was”, Lance chuckles softy. His cheeks are warm. “How was work?”

“I now know what a humanoid dog in a maiden´s costume looks like” Keith looks pained.

“What?”

“Don’t ask”

Lance pours him a cup of tea while Keith goes to take off his boots and jacket. “Here” he holds the mug out to him. “I put honey in it”

Keith looks up at him in surprise. “Thanks” He takes a sip and smiles.

Lance feels a little proud. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah” Keith takes another sip. The tea is warm enough to tint his cheeks red. “I didn’t know we had honey. Or tea”

“I flirted with a few cashiers” Lance shrugs. He´s a little shocked to see Keith´s shocked expression. “I know we wanted to grow grocery shopping, but I thought- I´m sorry” How could he? He´s _married_.

Keith´s face softens. “Don’t worry, it´s okay” He wraps his hands around his mug. It has a galaxy pattern. Lance likes it best of all of the three mugs Keith owns, the other two are a GG High School mug and one that has faded so much so none will ever be able to decipher what it says. “I thought we could take my motorcycle to the store. There´s a Vol*Mart just five minutes away”, Keith says.

“Sure” _Oh god, he´s such a bad boy._ Lance feels all mushy.

“Alright”, Keith downs the rest of his tea and sets the mug down in the sink. The tips of his ears are red. “I´m going to try and find my spare helmet” He turns to look at Lance, examines him with narrowed eyes. “There are two pairs of black Kevlar jeans somewhere in my closet, maybe one of them fits you”

The smaller pair fits. Lance can´t help but think of Keith´s thighs as he lays the other pair out on the bed. But he doesn’t get to watch Keith put them on (not that he wanted to), because Keith goes to change in the bathroom, but not before handing Lance a helmet. It´s heavy. Lance doesn’t even try to put it on. Selkies avoid heavy things. They drag you down while diving. No one like drowning. Keith also hands him a backpack, a black one with a lot of straps and buckles. They fill up the wolf´s water bowl, then Lance follows Keith down the stairs.

Lance had no idea that their building (wow, he´s really calling it theirs _already_?) has a small underground parking garage. Keith´s motorcycle is sleek and black and Keith is wearing a proud smile as he presents it.

“That´s pretty cool”, Lance says, eying it a little nervously. He´s never ridden one before and the idea of wearing a helmet still doesn’t sit right with him. Keith notices.

“Don’t worry”, he assures him, “You´ll be okay”

Lance´s heart is pounding when Keith puts the helmet on him, then slips on his own. It´s hot and heavy, Lance doesn’t like it, but he quickly brushes it aside when Keith mounts the bike and motions for him to sit behind him. Lance does so with shaky knees and when the engine awakes with a roar, he instinctively wraps both arms around Keith´s waist. His helmet begins to feel even hotter. He feels Keith´s ribcage expanding against his arms with every breath, his heart beating a tattoo against his own chest. Keith lays a gloved hand on his forearm for just a second, still and heavy, _don’t worry, you´ll be fine._ Lance relaxes a little, but still startles when the bike begins to move.

He keeps his eyes closed for the first few minutes, focuses on breathing. His grip on Keith´s body is the only thing anchoring to the world as the world zooms past them with flashing lights and sounds muffled by the helmet. _Five minutes_ , Keith said it would take, but to Lance it felt like hours and seconds all at once.

His knees are wobbly when he dismounts the bike in the Vol*Mart parking lot and he promptly plants his ass down on the curb of a flowerbed. Keith boots the bike´s kickstand into position, then kneels down in front of Lance. He shows him his gloved hands, waits for Lance to nod before freeing him from his helmet. Lance gasps for air, shaking his head to feel the cool air on his burning cheeks.

Keith looks worried when his face has finally escaped the helmet. “Are you okay?”, he asks lowly, his indigo eyes examining Lance from head to toe.

Lance nods quickly, runs a feeble hand through his hair. “Just a premiere for me, that´s all. I´m fine”

Keith nods, a crooked grin on his lips, and stands. He holds out a hand for Lance to hurl himself off the ground with. “Turn around”, he says once Lance is standing next to him, then fumbles with the backpack Lance is carrying. Lance hears a zipper, then Keith´s voice. “Can you give me your helmet?” Lance hands it over. “It´s a magical backpack”, Keith explains after zipping it back up. “We can fit all our groceries in there, too. I can carry it, if you want”, he offers as they are walking towards the giant building that is Vol*Mart.

“It´s fine”, Lance waves a hand around and adjusts the straps. _If I don’t have any money to help you pay, I can at least do this._

The Vol*Mart is gigantic. Lance has never been inside one before and his jaw drops at the sight of aisle after aisle, shelves stacked to the max, and the advertisements along the walls, enchanted so their subjects can move. Keith chuckles beside him. “You look like you´ve never been to a supermarket before”

“I haven’t”, Lance replies after picking his lower jaw off the ground. “I mean, why would anyone have brought me to one?”, he adds when he sees Keith´s surprised expression.

Something flashes across Keith´s face, but it´s gone before Lance can identify it, and then it´s back to the Resting Bitch Face. “Alright”, Keith says, voice a little raspy, “I´m guessing we won´t split up then”

Lance trails after him down the aisles, squinting at the names of the who-knows-how-many brands he finds on every one of the long shelves. Originally, he had been the one pushing the cart, but after bumping into both the shelves and Keith several times in distraction, his husband took it from him. _His_ _husband_. Lance can´t stop thinking of him as that. Even though they don’t know each other very well, even though their wedding was an accident, by selkie customs, Keith _is_ his husband.

But who knows how long that is going to last.

“Lance!”, Keith calls from a few feet down the aisle. “Do you want chips?”

“I´m always a slut for Doritos!” Lance yells back at full volume, earning a dry laugh from Keith as he tosses a bag into their shopping cart.

The chips are joined by cereal, toast, and milk, along with some fresh produce and two packs of spaghetti as they make their way through the store until eventually ending up at the Fresh Fish Counter.

“Do you want fish?” Keith asks him over his shoulder while setting a gallon of juice into the cart.

“I think it´s not too expensive”, Lance says evasively, though his mouth is watering at the smell of fresh salmon.

Keith sighs. “I´m not _that_ poor, y´know”, he says, “Go have look, I´ll go searching for paper towels, okay?”

Lance sighs, but he´s smiling. “Okay”

The lady behind the counter is definitely a siren, with long sleek hair and an ageless face. The store uniform looks wrong on her, like she should be wearing an evening gown instead, but Lance is unfazed by her beauty. He´s used to merfolk. And he´s married. “Hi”, he says as un-flirtingly as possible, “do you have flatfish?”

“I have plaice”, she practically purrs at him, leaning onto the counter a little.

Lance frowns. Does she not realize he´s a selkie? A part of him is proud that he´s blending in so well already, but he also wishes she wouldn’t flirt with him. “Can I see the plaice?”, he requests as coolly as possible, but Lance has not had any chill since the day he was born, so it comes out a little squeakily. Damnit.

“Sure thing, babe” She slaps a dead fish wrapped in Nori onto the counter.

Lance leans forward to examine it, tries to sniff it as discretely as possible as to not give away his disguise. “I´ll take it”, he says and tries to keep his voice firm as he adds: “And I´m married. So don’t call me babe, please”

“Sure you are, babe”, she mocks him, wrapping the plaice in paper and handing it over. “Have a good day”

Lance doesn’t return the courtesy, just takes his fish and goes to find Keith. He spots him two aisles over, trying to decide between two different types of peanut butter, and is immediately confronted with an important decision:

“Crunchy or creamy?”

“Creamy”, Lance says without missing a beat, “Crunchy always gets stuck between my teeth”

“Alright”, Keith shrugs and drops it into the cart, then looks at Lance. “Everything alright?”

Lance hasn’t even noticed he is still frowning and relaxes his face. “Yeah, yeah, just…” He grimaces. “Siren”

Keith nods, though he clearly doesn’t fully understand. “So what fish did you get?”

“Plaice. It´s a flatfish”, he adds, because Keith looks like it´s completely unfamiliar to him. “It´s mostly just merfolk that eat it”

“Ah”, Keith says, pulling the card a little closer so Lance can put his fish inside. “And that siren, did she insult you?”

“No, no, don’t worry” Lance waves a hand dismissively, “She was just annoying”

And as they walk past the fish counter again on their way to the cash register, Lance notices his husband glaring daggers at the siren in her apron dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to come talk to me on my snapchat (danny.fandom) or my kik (DeathBoyGhostKing)


	5. Lance Has Scars. Keith Has Wounds.

It takes Keith a lot to pretend that he doesn’t enjoy having Lance´s arms wrapped around him as they speed through the city, the sky already turning dark and the streets clearing towards the end of rush hour. He´s spent almost 90 bucks on their groceries, which is a new record for him, but he´s not that poor as not to handle that. He did make sure Lance was distracted though, giving him his phone and asking him to save his number and send himself a text. Despite all his boldness and flirty grins, Lance seems to be having a hard time letting Keith buy him things, as if Keith weren’t the reason Lance got fucking _disowned_ and therefore definitely owes him, and Keith doesn’t want him to feel uncomfortable or insecure. That look he wore after talking with the siren had been more than enough for today.

God, since when does Keith _care_ so much?

He barely knows this guy. And yet there´s something between them already, Shiro would probably call it a _connection_ , but Keith isn’t sure he´d go that far. Maybe Lance is just easy to like? Or Keith is really fucking lonely?

He doesn’t even bother to hide his blush when he helps Lance out of his helmet back at home, then takes the backpack from him despite Lance´s protests. “Stop”, he says and holds it out of his reach, “You can take the helmets if you´re so desperate to carry something”

And so they make their way up the stairs, Keith carrying the world´s heaviest backpack without big trouble thanks to his strengthening runes and Lance holding a helmet in each hand. The wolf doesn’t even bother to get up from his pillow when they enter the flat, just gives them a lazy _boof_. Lance wanders over to pet him hello, then goes to put the helmets down in the living room. They peel off their thick jackets and the gloves, then get to feeding the wolf and putting away the groceries. When he sees Lance shoulder deep in the backpack, trying to fish out the tiny pack of gum they threw in there, Keith is glad that he didn’t ask for a receipt. He couldn’t stand seeing him sad now. His nerves are raw enough as they are. The last few days have really been a lot.

“Hey, I know this is a dumb question, but do you own any clothes other than the pelt and the ones over there?” He points at the laundry basket, which Lance´s jeans are hanging out of. The laundry basket was a housewarming gift from Adam, Keith would have never bought one on his own.

“Obviously”, Lance rolls up the legs of his borrowed sweatpants. The two of them have just changed out of there motorcycle clothes. “I wore something else at the party, didn’t I?” He raises an arched eyebrow at Keith, who blushes a little. “But they´re all at Lotor and Allura´s house”

“I could take you there tomorrow, my first client isn’t until 2:30”, Keith offers, leaning against the bathroom-doorframe. “Because I don’t own enough clothes for us to share them all the time” _Also, you look really cute in my hoodie and I don’t know if I can handle that._

“On that fiery deathtrap?” Lance falls backwards onto the bed, draping himself across his pelt as he stretches. Keith has to actively look away. _Fuck._

“Yeah or do you want to take the bus?”

“Deathtrap is fine”, Lance says, voice muffled as he rolls onto his stomach. Then he rolls back and sits up. “Do you want dinner?”, he asks, “I know some people eat dinner”

“I´m not really one of them”, Keith says, walking over to tilt the window. “Are you?”

Lance shakes his head. “Only tea, usually” He swings his long legs over the edge of the bed. “Do you want a cup, too?”

“Sure”, Keith shrugs. He never thought of himself as a tea person, but the cup Lance made him earlier was delicious and who knows, maybe even Keith can sit down and enjoy a nice cup of tea every now and again. He doesn’t follow Lance to the kitchen though, takes this moment of privacy to check his phone instead. No texts from her or her decoy number. She usually checks in at the first of every month, but today is October 4 already and there hasn’t been a single text and Keith is starting to get worried. He knows that she can take care of herself, but still… her life is a tough one and Keith never knows if she might be in danger. But she wouldn’t answer if he called. So, he has to wait.

Lance returns with two steaming mugs just seconds after Keith has put away his phone. “Careful, it´s hot”, he says as he hands one to Keith, then sits down on the bed next to him.

“Thanks”, Keith wraps both hands around his cup. “Did you put honey in it again?”

“Yep”, Lance smiles proudly, “Ginger tea with honey. Just how Momma used to make it”

Keith chuckles, takes a careful sip and promptly burns his tongue. “Did your mom really make tea?”

Lance shakes his head. “My mamaí is very focused on maintaining our selkie culture”, he says almost bitterly. “We don’t really wear human clothes or have any technology or anything”

“You have a phone though”

“Allura gave it to me for Christmas”, Lance explains, “She and Lotor are basically my only ties to the outside world, apart from…”

“Summoners”, Keith says and Lance nods.

“And you now, I guess”, he says, avoiding Keith´s eyes.

“I guess”, Keith echoes him, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “So what´s selkie culture like?”, he asks after a few seconds, “Apart from the… summoning, I mean”

Lance is silent at first and Keith begins to fear that he´s said the wrong thing but then Lance, while staring into his tea, speaks. “It´s very much like a big family”, he says quietly, “We all take care of each other, like everyone takes care of the young, we share all of our hauls and eat together and stuff… my sister Veronica and I used to go swimming at night, in our human bodies and it was all just flailing limbs at first because we didn’t know how humans swim” He huffs out a quiet laugh. There is so much longing in his voice that Keith feels the guilt stirring in his stomach.

“I´m sorry I took all that away from you”, he mumbles, letting his hair fall into his eyes so Lance can´t see them shimmer.

“Don’t worry about it”, Lance says softly, leaning down to set his empty mug down on the floor, “You also got me out of being summoned” The mattress shudders as he falls backwards. “And you seem like a cool dude. I´m okay with accidentally being married to you”

He said it so softly and childlike that Keith can´t help but smile. “You seem cool, too”, he says dumbly. _I don’t mind having you as my new husband,_ he wants to tell Lance.

But he can´t bring himself to say it.

They go to bed after that. Keith changes in the bathroom again and when he steps back into the bedroom, he finds Lance sprawled out like a starfish, occupying both Keith´s side and his own. _Wow, they have their own sides already?_

Keith heftily sits down on the edge of the bed. “Move over”, he grunts, nudging Lance´s side. When Lance stretches his arms over his head and rolls over, Keith watches him. Lance is so tiny, he thinks. So slender. He wonders if it´s natural of if Lance just never had enough to eat. If his family is just living off the fish in the sea then _oh_ _boy_ , because as far as Keith knows, there´s quite a lot of pollution around here. Can that make the selkies sick? Can it _kill_ them?

“Keith?” Lance´s voice startles him.

“Huh?”

“You´re staring”

Keith quickly averts his eyes, cheeks flushed. “Sorry”, he mumbles and distracts himself by making a blanket nest to bury himself in.

“It´s okay, don’t worry”, Lance chuckles, “I know I´m pretty”

“You are”, Keith mumbles, hoping that Lance doesn’t hear. If he does, he doesn’t comment on it.

“And what about your family?”, he asks instead, wrapping himself in his blanket. “Can you turn off the light?”

Keith hits the light switch next to the bed, darkness engulfs them. “Well, you already know my brother”, he says cautiously, “He´s 9 years older than me”

“Yeah, I know Shiro” Lance´s voice sounds a lot calmer now, like he´s slowly unwinding.

“But did you know he´s actually called Takashi?”, Keith continues, “Shiro is just a nickname”

“No, I didn’t know that” Lance is quiet for a moment. “What about your parents?”

Keith bites his lip. All of his instincts tell him to run away, to seal himself shut, to _not tell Lance._ But they´re _married_. And Keith doesn’t want to hide anything from him, not if they are going to do this. “My dad died when I was 9”, he says quietly.

“I´m sorry” Lance sounds sincere. “That must suck”

“Yeah”, Keith huffs out a laugh. He actually hates being pitied, because _I´m sorry_ doesn’t fucking bring his dad back, so why bother, but when Lance says it, it´s nice. It sounds like he genuinely cares. Keith isn’t really used to that. Sure, Shiro is the most loving brother under the sun, but he treats Keith like a little boy sometimes and his care is always accompanied with that feeling of being parented, because that´s who Shiro and Adam had to be at just 18, _parents._ And the Blades aren’t exactly cuddly either. They´re rough and strict and yell at him sometimes. Not that Keith minds. But Lance is so… gentle. So soft and so genuinely nice, all while being a flirty goofball, and Keith likes it. He _likes_ _Lance_.

“And your mom?”, Lance asks softly, and Keith rolls over to look at him, is met with furrowed eyebrows and worried blue eyes in the dim light.

“She´s away for work”, Keith says, hating the way his voice breaks. “Has been as long as I can remember”

“What kind of work?” Lance is so close is breath tickles Keith´s face.

“I- I don’t even know” Keith rolls onto his back again, his arms limb at his sides. He stares at the cracked plaster on the ceiling. “We don’t really talk about it”

Lance doesn’t reply, just sniffles and wraps his blanket around himself tighter. They bought one for him at Vol*Mart. His pelt is put away in the closet now, neatly folded. Lance put it there himself, just before they went to bed. Keith figured he should let him do with it what he wanted. It was his fucking _skin_ after all.

“Are you cold?” Keith asks when Lance sniffles again.

“No”, he replies, voice wet, “It´s just- I miss my mamaí”

“Oh” The guilt sloshes inside Keith´s guts. He took Lance away from his family.

“But don’t worry”, Lance adds quickly. “I´m not a pup anymore, I can handle it”

“Okay” Keith isn’t sure what to do. “Do you- do you need a hug or something?”

Lance giggles softly. “Are you comfortable with that?”

“I think so”

“Are you sure?”

Keith rolls over to face him. Lance´s eyes sparkle at him in the dark. “Yeah”, he says hoarsely.

Lance giggles again and holds out an arm. “C´mere then”

They lean into each other awkwardly, with burning cheeks and pounding hearts, and Keith can´t help but feel like they fit together like puzzle pieces. And maybe he´s just really touch starved but the sensations hit him like a freight train. Lance´s body feels strange in his arms, in a good way, slender but strong and warm and so _alive._ Keith doesn’t know how else to describe it. In this moment it really hits him. He _married_ this man. This is his _husband._ A living, breathing being, with real memories, and real emotions and feelings, that Keith could _spend his life with_. He chokes back a sob.

Shit.

Lance clings on a second longer when Keith pulls away, close to freaking out, and turns his back to Lance. His heart is pounding. His cheeks are burning up. One half of his brain wants to turn back around, hug Lance again and never let go, the other wants to kick him out of the apartment. Keith opts for the middle ground: lay perfectly still and pretend Lance isn’t even there. Shit, shit, shit.

Too many feelings.

Lance is trying to control his breathing in the dark. His heart is beating a tattoo against his ribs, Keith´s body feels like it´s glowing next to him. Holy fuck. He didn’t know a simple hug could mess someone up this much. But it helped. Lance had never been away from his family for this long and he himself was surprised by how much he misses them. But he´s married now. They´re not his family anymore, not really. Keith is now. If he doesn’t kick Lance out anytime soon. Throws him out like the piece of trash he is.

Lance listens to Keith´s uneven breathing in the dark, mixed with the sound of the city outside. The wolf trots into the bedroom, jumps onto the bed.

“No”, Keith orders, his voice a little shaky. “Off. Now”

The wolf reluctantly hops off the bed, curls up on his pillow instead.

“Why can´t you let him on the bed?”, Lance asks, drawing up his knees.

“Because then there´d be no room left for us”, Keith mumbles, “And I prefer not to be drooled on all night”

Lance makes a mental note to check if he drools.

He wakes up before Keith in the morning, a strange smell having disturbed his slumber. Bleach. The downstairs neighbors must be cleaning, he thinks, then wonders if Keith can smell it too. Human noses are weak, he knows that, but _that_ weak? Or is Keith just used to it? Lance sits up in bed, runs a hand through his hair. It feels a lot softer and straighter now. Less salt. For a moment he wonders if it will ever feel curly again. Will Keith allow him to see the ocean? Stop it, he has to tell himself. Keith isn’t one of his summoners, he doesn’t fucking _own_ him. He´s his husband. Maybe even his friend. Keith stirs next to him, his dark eyebrows furrowing a little. A strand of black hair splits his face into two halves. Lance reaches out and brushes it away. Keith sighs in his sleep. His eyelids flutter. Lance should probably get up if he doesn’t want to wake him.

The digital clock on the microwave tells him that it´s only 6:30 AM; Keith is not going to get up for another hour. At least he got up at 7:30 yesterday. God, Lance doesn’t know anything about his husband´s life, does he? Okay, granted, he´s only known him for three days, two of which were the weekend, but still. Lance grabs the kettle to make himself a tea. At least he knows his way around the kitchen already. Maybe he could wake Keith up with a nice cup of tea? Or is that too much? Lance _doesn’t_ _know_. He was trained to be either sexy or a servant or both if he had to. What if Keith realized that? How tainted Lance was, how _defiled?_ Would he even still want him? Lance stares at the scar on his wrist. It´s ugly, just like what it represents. Keith probably doesn’t want him.

Keith wakes up to the kettle whistling. Lance´s side of the bed is empty, Keith can hear him in the kitchen. The radio is playing, he´s singing along. It´s not very good, he is only hitting every other note, but it makes Keith smile. It´s nice to wake up to something like this, to _someone._ The smell of ginger tea fills his nose as he rolls out of bed, doesn’t even bother getting dressed. He finds Lance feeding the wolf in the kitchen, also in his sleeping clothes, two steaming mugs on the counter behind him. Keith can´t help the smile that tugs at his lips. They´re so _domesticated_ already. Like they were a real couple and not just two virtual strangers who accidentally got married. Keith would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. But it´s scary. Keith usually doesn’t do feelings.

“Morning”, he hears himself say, then clears his throat to get rid of the raspiness.

Lance looks up, gets to his feet with creaking knees. “Morning”, he smiles softly. “I made tea”

“I know, I could smell it” Keith takes one mug, hands Lance the other. “Thank you”

Lance frowns. “For what?”

“No one has made me tea since I was a teenager. And you did it three times already”

Lance looks down. “I´m your husband”, he mumbles.

“But you´re not my servant”, Keith replies, surprised at how little he was bothered by Lance saying that. “You´re my equal”

The tips of Lance´s ears go red.

Keith thinks about it again while they´re having their breakfast; tea and cereal. How he doesn’t mind the married thing anymore. Well, maybe _doesn’t mind_ is a little far-fetched still, it still scares the shit out of him, but… he no longer feels the urge to run to the nearest courthouse and get their marriage annulled. He wants to do this, whatever _this_ is. Is that normal? That he likes Lance this much after only three days? And why can´t he shut himself away from him?

“Ready?”, he asks Lance later, in the garage downstairs. Lance nods, and Keith dons the helmet on him. Once his own his on too, and he feels Lance pressed against his back, Keith starts the engine and rumbles out onto the street.

Lance´s fingers dig into his waist a little harder every time they lean into a turn on the road. Keith prefers narrow alleys and side streets over those overflown with the rush hour and so they reach Arus in less than 20 minutes. It takes him a few tries to find the address Lance gave him, but he doesn’t want to bother him in his desperate koala-clinging to Keith. By the time he pulls into their driveway his heart is having a crisis. He´s met Lotor and Allura before, but he really only knows them through Shiro and of course, their reputations, and not as Lance´s closest friends. Somehow that makes him uneasy.

Lance dismounts the bike the second it comes to a halt, then stumbles around, trying to take off his helmet. Keith can´t help but chuckle. He waves Lance closer, takes his helmet off for him. By the time his own his off too and the bike is on its kickstand, Allura has already opened the door.

“Lonce!” She pulls him into a tight which he returns with only one arm, because he´s still holding his helmet. “And Keith too! How lovely. Lotor!”, she calls into the house. “Lance is here!”

Keith steps closer when he sees Lance´s shoulders tighten just a little bit. The protective urge is back again. But why? These are his friends.

“Come in, come in” Allura takes a step backwards, just as Lotor appears behind her.

“What brings you here?”, he asks, watching Keith closely as the two of them rid themselves of their gear.

“We´re just getting Lance´s clothes”, Keith replies. He can´t help but notice the glance Lotor shoots Lance and how Lance cowers under it. Without even thinking about it, he lays a hand on Lance´s shoulder, gives it a light squeeze and feels Lance relax under his palm.

“Of course”, Allura says. She´s in her business clothes, Keith realizes, a suit and heels. “Lotor can assist you, because I should be on my way to work already”

“Shit, I think the bike is blocking your car”, Lance says, his shoulder tensing up again.

“I´ll drive it away”, Keith says quickly, already putting his boots back on. “It´ll only take a second”

Lance can´t deny that he´s feeling uneasy about Keith leaving him alone with Lotor, but he tells himself to _suck it up_ as they make their way upstairs. Lotor leans against the doorframe, watching Lance as he opens the closet and starts pulling out his clothes. Keith should be back soon, then he won´t be alone with Lotor anymore. He said it would only take a second, Lance repeats to himself in his head while he collects his thing from everywhere in the room, yellow eyes scorching his skin. And Lotor wouldn’t dare to do anything, would he?

Would he?

“You forgot this downstairs”, he hears Keith´s voice from the door and instinctively catches the backpack his husband throws him. “Need any help?”

“Yeah, thanks” Lance smiles with relief as Keith pushes past Lotor and hands the backpack right back. “Could you just put all my stuff in there?”

“Sure”, Keith says. There´s something like worry in his eyes as he begins to gather up the clothes Lance has thrown on the bed.

“So, Keith”, Lotor says from the door, making him look up from trying to maneuver Lance´s boots past the zipper. “You do want Lance after all”

 _Shut up!_ Lance thinks at him, already regretting that he brought Keith here, but Keith doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“What makes you think I didn’t want him?”

“If I remember correctly, you did throw him out”, Lotor sneers.

“And now I´m here, collecting his clothes so he can move in with me”, Keith says coolly, stuffing the last shirt Lance hands him into the backpack and zipping it up. “Do you need anything else?”, he asks Lance, his voice much warmer than before.

“My makeup is in the bathroom”, Lance says in a small voice. “Give me a minute”

As soon as Lance has disappeared in the ensuite bathroom, Lotor´s yellow eyes lock onto Keith. “How come you changed your mind?”, he asks, raising one eyebrow.

“Lance is a great guy”, Keith replies, his voice as neutral as possible. “I´m glad to have him in my life” He himself is surprised by his words, but other than Lotor, he doesn’t show it on his face.

Lotor opens his mouth but shuts it again, when Lance appears between them, a toiletry bag in his hand. He hands it to Keith without a word, who shoves it into the backpack.

“Ready to go?”, Keith asks and receives a nod. “Alright then”, he says, shouldering the backpack.

Lotor follows them downstairs, even stays with them as they gear up again. That by itself of course isn’t a crime, but the way he looks at Lance is enough to make Keith´s blood boil. It´s almost… predatory. No wonder Lance looks uncomfortable. Has Lotor always been like this to him? Does Allura know?

What did they _do_ with him?

Unfortunately, Keith´s question is answered when he spots Lotor´s hand low on his husband´s back, _very_ low. Lance squirms a little, Keith clenches his jaw and fists so tight he feels his muscles spasm. But something stops him from calling Lotor out. Like it´s not his place. Like Lance isn’t his fucking husband. Maybe Keith isn’t really used to the married thing after all.

He doesn’t relax until they´re on the bike and speeding down the street and away from the Altean´s townhouse. _We should all have dinner together some time,_ Allura said to him outside earlier, but now Keith isn’t sure that he would be able to refrain himself from driving a fork through Lotor´s eyeball.

Lance´s fingers are trembling as he holds onto Keith´s jacket. He did it again. Even though Lance is married and his husband was _right there._ Fucking hell. Hopefully he´ll stop once he realizes Lance is serious about this. Or maybe Keith will eventually throw him away and Lotor will have free play. But Lance has a hard time believing that after what he heard. _Lance is a great guy,_ he had heard his husband say, _I´m glad to have him in my life._ Lance smiles to himself as he nestles against Keith´s back. Oh Keith, he thinks, I´m glad to have you in my life, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i love my purple space prince with all my heart but not as much as i love writing toxic characters im sorry


	6. Lance Is Caring, Keith Is Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay I´m writing again, finally

“Keith, I´m okay”, Lance assures his husband for the fifth time since they have dismounted the bike. “It´s nothing, really”

“It´s not- it´s not nothing”, Keith replies through gritted teeth. He closes the apartment door behind them a little too forcefully and kicks one of his boots into the corner.

Lance sighs and puts down their helmets. “Keith, calm down” He shrugs off his jacket. “It´s not a big deal, okay?” He says it a little sharper than he meant to.

Keith sighs and crosses his arms across his chest. He´s in his jeans and a tight black t-shirt now and Lance tries not to stare at his biceps too obviously. If Keith notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “If you say so”, he says instead, his voice neutral. “I´m just trying to look out for you, okay?”

“And I appreciate that”, Lance says softly. He sets his boots down neatly. “But I know what I´m doing. Lotor _by far_ isn’t the worst I´ve had”

Keith frowns at him for a solid three seconds, then nods slowly. “Okay”, he says in a hollow voice, then turns around and disappears into the living room. Lance blinks. That´s one way to end a conversation, he figures, and follows Keith into the living room.

Keith is bent over his desk, trying to find something in the mountains of paper without too many of them escaping from their designated pile. He´s failing spectacularly and Lance stops a few sheets of paper doing The Slide™ across the hardwood floor with his foot. “What are you look for?”, he asks, crouching down to pick up the two very detailed drawings of fancy knives he´s just stomped his sweaty sock onto.

“A draft for a backpiece”, Keith says, almost knocking a long-forgotten coffee mug off the desk. “Looks like a forest”

 “You take the left side, I´ll take the right”, Lance suggests, their previous topic now fully abandoned, and so they get to work.

It takes them a solid five minutes to find the sketch they´re looking for. In that short period of time, Lance comes across seven more knife sketches, a by now surely fully conscious apple, a furniture catalogue from two years ago and a _very_ detailed drawing of a penis he chooses to simply ignore. “I think I should get a job”, he says while they are “organizing” the papers back into their piles. “So you don’t have to pay for everything, you know?”

Keith folds the forest and shoves it into his back pocket, then brushes his hair back with his fingers. “You sure? I don’t mind paying”

“If I´m going to be your- roommate”, Lance stops himself from saying _husband_ , “Then I´m going to help you pay”

A small smile makes Keith´s lips twitch. “Alright”, he says, smoothly ignoring Lance´s almost-slip up. “What did you have in mind?”

Lance shrugs, shoving his hand into his back pockets. “I don’t know”, he says a lot more confidently than he feels right now. “I´ll go ask around, maybe someone needs a prostitute”

Keith´s eyelid twitches.

“Keith, I´m joking”, Lance clarifies. “That was a joke”

Keith tries his best to put on a grin, but his indigo eyes look like a rainy sky. Lance instinctively reaches out and pokes him in his pouty cheek. That gets a snort out of Keith, and a twitch of his lips.

“I´ll try at the bakery”, Lance says, putting his hand in his pocket again. Keith´s jeans are a little big on him, they keep slipping off his small hips.

Keith nods, his hair falling into his face. He brushes it away as he speaks. “Sounds like a plan. I gotta get to work soon. You´ll be okay on your own?”

Lance nods, puts on his brave face again, even though he doesn’t really need it anymore. The apartment feels like home to him. No one here is out to hurt him, he´s safe.

He´s safe with Keith.

* * *

 

Keith´s anger towards Lotor has not yet faded all the way by the time he reaches the parlor. Kolivan and Antok are there, Kolivan is tattooing a client and Antok is knitting away at a pink scarf over at the break-corner-couch, as they call it. “Morning”, he says over the sound of the creaking door, earning only nods in reply. Antok is not a man of many words, if any at all, and Kolivan does not believe in mornings past ten AM, be it just a pleasantry or not. Keith makes a beeline for his desk, slaps the forest-draft onto the desk pad a little too forcefully and sits down.

“You seem tense”, Kolivan comments without even looking up from tattooing a spider wearing rainboots onto a grown man´s butt cheek.

“You think?” Keith pulls the pencil out of his bun and wipes his now undone locks from his forehead. He felt calm when he was with Lance earlier, but without him, the anger-volcano inside him is bubbling again.

Antok _tsk_ s at his attitude but doesn’t say anything. Kolivan gives his whimpering canvas a break and steps behind Keith. His shovel-like hand rests heavily on Keith´s shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“No”, Keith says through gritted teeth, “everything is _fine_ ” “Keith”, Kolivan says in his dad-voice and Keith groans. “Someone messed with my friend, that’s all”, Keith says in his clearly-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it-voice.

“Matt?”, Kolivan asks anyway.

“ _No, not Matt_ ”, Keith snaps. “I don’t want to talk about it”

Kolivan, completely unfazed by Keith´s attitude, doesn’t reply. In an attempt to be affectionate he squeezes his fosterling´s shoulder with the intensity of an excavator grab, then returns to his client´s ass cheek. Keith stretches his arm across his chest to put his shoulder joint back into place and focusses on his draft again.

He can´t help but think about Lance as he works on his nightly forest. Not that that is a problem; he likes thinking about Lance. Being around him doesn’t make him anxious anymore, quite the contrary actually. Lance makes him feel calm. Happy. Safe, but not the way Shiro does, because Shiro is his brother and Lance is… a friend. Even though it´s been only days, Keith considers him a _friend._ God, what is happening to him? Since when does Keith have _feelings_? Besides anger, that is. Like the anger towards Loto., Keith is ready to _kill_ him just for groping Lance. He wasn’t lying when he told the elf that he was glad to have Lance in his life. Hell, he doesn’t even care if Lance heard. Okay, maybe a little. But Lance deserves to know that he´s wanted, that he´s _appreciated_ and Keith´s fear of any feelings whatsoever is not going to ruin this for them!

By the time the line art is finished Keith has thought himself into enough of a rage that he needs to go outside for a smoke.

He can see his client approaching from where he´s sitting on the steps outside the shop with his cigarette. She´s a petite witch lady, a hundred and twenty years young and with glitter covering every piece of cloth on her body. “Keith, mein Schatz”, she says in her heavy German accent, “Good to see you again”

Keith does a Kolivan and reduces his greeting to a simple nod as he stubs out his cig. He continues his nodding as he leads the lady inside and points her to a free cot, all while she bends his ears like he actually gives a shit about her third husband.

“I know he is zee right one zis time”, she says as she takes off all three off her tops and presents her back to Keith. He nods along politely as he applies the stencil to her surprisingly un-wrinkly skin. “And not just because he has so much money”

“Uh-huh” Keith begins tracing the lines. Pieces like this, even with magic, can take up to four hours. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

 

Lance has been rejected from a bakery, a faerie pharmacy, and a lingerie shop so far; on the grounds that he dropped out of school, has no significant magical powers and is too thin to wear the lingerie he should be selling. Maybe they would have taken him if he told him about his selkie heritage. Because without his pelt, no one seemed to recognize him as one of his kind. He isn’t sure how to feel about it. It´s not that he´s per se _ashamed_ , but things are… easier, when he´s passing as human. He has not even been publicly harassed since he stopped wearing his pelt, which feels like a fucking miracle. But still, no luck job hunting. After another flat refusal in a bakery, he finds himself in front of **_M_** _agical **P** ets **F** ostering and **S** helter. _“Mpfs”, he mumbles to himself and after a moment of thought, shrugs and steps inside. Won´t hurt to at least try.

The bell above the door jingles happily as he steps inside. A wild mixture of animal smells hit his keen nose with full force and he has to breathe through his mouth for a second as he tries to adjust. There´s a reception desk in the anteroom but it´s vacant. Lance reluctantly rings the little bell next to the sign that says _Call For An Employee If Unoccupied_ to do exactly that. After a few seconds a blond girl in a forest green overall appears, greeting him with a happy “Hello there!”

“Hi”, Lance replies as cheery as possible, but his optimism has suffered a little after the second bakery especially. “I just wanted to know if maybe you were hiring”

“We are, actually!”, the girl says with a beaming smile. She´s definitely elven, with pointy ears and the typical skin marks, only hers aren’t pink but blue like a male´s. Lance is confused until he spots the **_Trans_** _Former_ badge in pink and blue on her overall. _Romelle,_ her name tag says. And next to it: _she/her._ “If you have a moment, we can do the interview right now”, Romelle offers and Lance nods gladly.

She sits him down in the little waiting area and insists on bringing him a coffee. As soon as she joins him across the coffee table he begins rattling off the script he rehearsed earlier at home and that has brought him four refusals so far. “Hi, my name is Lance McClain and I´d really like to work here. Unfortunately, I do not have a high school diploma and have not had a job before, but I´m a fast learner and promise to work hard”

Romelle stares at him in bewilderment for a full second, then bursts out laughing. “Okay, I see you learned your lines”, she giggles, and Lance is ready to give up but then she says: “But do I look like a high school graduate to you? You don’t need a high school diploma to take care of animals, they don’t care if you know geometry or not”

“Of course not”, Lance says dumbly.

“If you have an hour or two we can do a trial work”, she suggests with a beaming smile.

“Uh, yeah, of course, I would love to!”

The cages are a smelling sensation of extraordinary standards. Dog, cat, dragon, _duck,_ everything. Lance needs to breathe through his mouth for the first two minutes, just so he is even able to _focus_. Romelle cheerily introduces him to every single animal by name, and Lance tries his best to remember them all, along with their diet and favorite spot to scratch, which Romelle also happily provides. “And this is our problem child back here”, she finishes as they reach the last cage. Lance peeks through the bars. Inside, next to a blowup kiddie pool and a bowl of drying algae, sits the front body of a colt with a glistening fishtail dragging behind it.

“Wow, you guys have a kelpie?” Lance kneels down and slips a hand through the bars to let the colt sniff. It doesn’t even raise his head. “What´s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know. He´s not eating”, Romelle says sadly, crouching down next to him. “He was rescued from a circus along with his mother. But she passed while they were in a different shelter”

“I guess he´s grieving then”, Lance mumbles, squeezing his entire arm through to pet the kelpie´s head. Its fin slaps sadly against the floor tiles a few times. “Can I go inside?”

“Sure” Romelle stands back up and unlocks the door for him.

The kelpie is more than two meters long, but it´s coiled up by the kiddie pool, eyes closed. Lance sits down on the floor, scratching its flank and cooing softly, in the way only merpeople can. The colt´s ears jerk at the sound, it whimpers and begins to move. Its head covers Lance´s entire lap, heavy on his thighs. Lance keeps talking to it in their language, telling it soft things and that it is loved and not alone. It´s like the two are in a trance, forgetting that Romelle and the other animals are even there. Lance runs his hands through the colt´s mane, breathes in that smell of salt and the sea, that piece of home. The colt´s hooves scrape across the tiles when Lance scratches that one spot, the tail fin produces loud slapping noises that mix with Lance´s lullaby. After what could be hours the kelpie heaves itself off Lance´s lap and trots over to the algae bowl, beginning to eat.

“Wow”, Romelle exclaims, startling Lance. “What did you _do_?”

“Talked to him”, Lance shrugs, getting up and brushing over his thighs.

“I didn’t hear anything” Romelle stares at the happily munching colt.

“Ultrasound”, Lance explains, glancing at the kelpie one more time before stepping out of the cage. When Romelle stares at him with eyes the size of the moon, he frowns. “What?”

“When can you start?”

* * *

 

Keith is three quarters through the forest when he can´t take it anymore – he needs a smoke break. The lady doesn’t mind, she “would like to meditate for a few minutes anyway”. Keith gladly slips out the back door, with his pack of cigarettes and a massive headache. The back alley is cool, he should have brought a jacket. It´s late in the afternoon and the sun is sinking quickly, so he leans against the shadowy wall and snaps his fingers to ignite a flame in his palm. He lights his death stick, then quickly closes his fist to extinguish the fire. He likes to use _it_ as little as necessary. He checks his phone, finds a few texts from Shiro asking how things are going and an article about the dangers of smoking from Adam. He texts Shiro a quick _everythings ok_ and Adam a middle finger emoji and a photo of his cigarette. Keith suddenly wonders what Lance thinks about the smoking. He´s only seen him smoke once, the night that he moved in and had immediately blamed himself for it. Keith avoided smoking when he was present after that. Maybe he should quit. Or maybe not.

Whatever.

His client has finished her meditation by the time he´s back inside and is sitting on the bench expectantly. Keith suppresses a groan. “Ready?”, he asks, just to try and lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.

After a few minutes the conversation focusses on whatever-her-name-is´s love life again. “Zee problem wis Blaytz was zat he did not communicate, you know?”, she says, her voice muffled by having her face pressed into a pillow.

“Uh-huh”, Keith sticks to his part of the script, desperately wishing that he could draw these trees faster.

“Zat´s  zee most important aspect of a healzy marriage”, she explains to him, “Communication. Are you married, schatz?”

Keith freezes. “Uh”, he says. He doesn’t want to deny Lance, god knows he doesn’t deserve that, but Kolivan and Antok are present and _probably listening_ and he is not ready to have them know about it. His affection for Lance wins over his unease, but only by a little. “Something like that, yes”, he says quietly, hoping that the two men don’t hear.

“Vell, you need to communicate”, his client says firmly, not even flinching when Keith takes the needle up again. “Communication and anal sex, zose are zee backbone of a marriage”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that.

* * *

 

Lance and Romelle agree on Lance starting work the next day. He practically bounces home, humming a tune. He´s got a job! A _real_ job to earn _real_ money with. He can help Keith pay with that money, can buy things for himself. He´s never done that before, it´s so exciting!

“I have a job now!”, he tells the wolf back home. “Isn´t that amazing?”

The wolf licks over his cheek once before going back to sleep. Lance ruffles his fur as he walks past him and to the kitchen. He puts on the kettle, whistles a tune as he cleans up the kitchen a little, wiping crumbs away and washing up the cups left in the sink. He stands by the open window with his steaming mug, looking outside and shivering in the cool autumn air. One of his fingers taps a rhythm against the side of Keith´s ashtray. It´s almost full. Lance wonders how much Keith actually smokes; he has only seen him do it once, but the ashtray tells a different story. Over the years he has seen a _lot_ – magical herbs, snorting fairy dust, injecting ectoplasm. Smoking isn’t that bad. Keith can do what he wants, he´s a grown man. Lance just wishes there weren’t any reason for it.

On a whim he empties the ashtray into the bin. The smell was stinging his nose.

He sits on the window´s sill, mug in hand, and looks outside. A young couple is pushing a stroller across the parking lot down there, barely older than Keith and Lance themselves. The small family looks adorable and it makes Lance´s heart sink. He doesn’t have his family anymore. Not really. He has Keith now. Would Keith want a baby? Would Keith even want _Lance_? He has trouble believing it. He wouldn´t himself.

He watches the couple get into their car and drive away, stares at the spot their car left vacant for a few more seconds. He wants this, he really does. He wants Keith. Wants to make it work. But that fear that he´s not good enough gnaws at his insides. Few selkie marriages end happily. They either split and the selkie loses everything and gets disowned or they quickly turn toxic. Those are the typical ones, that is, the ones where the selkie is intentionally summoned. Theirs is different. It was an accident. Or a lucky coincidence. Maybe both. Who knows. Not Lance. He´s just glad to have Keith for now, however long this may last.

“It will last”, he tells himself out loud and decides that he should do something to occupy his mind with. He ends up in the bedroom, because he hasn’t had a chance to put his clothes away yet. He asked Keith if he could reorganize his closet earlier, so he would have some space to put his things. Keith was hesitant but ended up agreeing.

Lance finds a total of seven knifes between Keith´s clothes. The first one he locates by cutting his palm on it and he swears to himself as the blood stains Keith´s sweater. He pulls the sweater out and drops it on the floor, then runs to stop the blood flow with a piece of toilet paper. With a past like his, one quickly learns how to remove fresh blood stains (rinse with cold water) and that he does. Then he hangs Keith´s sweater up to dry and continues with the closet, more carefully this time.

He matches their sides of the closet with their sides of the bed; Keith to the left and Lance to the right. Neither of them owns a lot of clothes so there´s no need to cram, but Lance still takes his time, folding every piece, sorting them into the drawers and hanging up each and every one of Keith´s jackets. His pelt he leaves until last. He doesn’t know what to do with it. He has a blanket now and doesn’t want to wear it. But he doesn’t want to just put it away either. It´s precious to him. In a moment of melancholy, he picks it up and buries his nose in it. It smells like the sea, like home. No, he corrects himself, this is your home now. And that feels like a good thing. Like the right thing.

* * *

 

The four hours it took to do the forest tattoo feel like the longest hours of Keith´s life. He doesn’t know how he made it through it, kept up that polite smile as he rang her up and walked her to the door. As soon as she´s gone, he lets out a groan and collapses onto the couch.

“Fucking hell”, he says, “I hope she never come back”

“She´s a client”, Kolivan says sternly, “So be polite”

“I was!” Keith sits up on the couch, looks at Kolivan at his desk. “She´s gone now, it doesn’t matter” He swings his legs over the edge of the couch and stands up. “I´m going for a smoke”

“Keith, can I talk to you?”, Kolivan asks, though it clearly isn’t a question.

“Let me smoke first”

“ _Now_.”

Keith groans and trudges over to the desk. Antok leaves the room at the wave of Kolivan´s hand.

“Look, I was being polite-“, Keith begins, but Kolivan interrupts him.

“This isn’t about your manners, Keith”, he says, almost gently, “Though they aren’t great” He pauses. “I overheard you talking to Ms. Kreisler. Why didn’t you tell us about your relationship?”

Keith flinches. “My what?”

“You said you were `something like married´”, Kolivan explains, clearly not planning on dropping this topic. “What is going on?”

Keith feels panic stirring in his guts. He is _not_ ready to talk about this at _all_ and he knows that Kolivan will respect that, even if he might get upset about his fosterling hiding things from him. Keith will tell him when he´s ready. It´s fine. This isn’t an interrogation. Kolivan can take no for an answer. But when Keith opens his mouth, something else comes out.

“His name is Lance”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	7. Lance Doesn´t Know High School, Keith Doesn´t Know Feelings

Kolivan listens to Keith´s story with a completely blank face. There´s a mere tic of his cheek when Keith´s explains that he didn’t know about selkie marriages and a disapproving eyebrow about Keith kicking Lance out. When Keith finishes with them getting Lance´s clothes and his anger toward Lotor, he is silent for a few seconds before asking: “Are you happy?”

“What?”, Keith asks.

“Are you happier, now that Lance is by your side”

 _I don’t know,_ Keith wants to say, because it´s a harmless answer and he never really knows anything, especially with the emotional rollercoaster that he has been riding for the last few days, but the answer is suddenly so clear in his mind that he has to blink a few times to make sure it is real. “Yeah”, he says, “I am”

Kolivan nods. “Then I will try my best to support you”

“Thank you”, Keith hears himself say. He feels exhausted. But revising that turmoil of feelings has led him to a single conclusion: he is happy like this. He really wants this. This is what he _needs_. “But can you keep this is to yourself  for now?”, he bids Kolivan, “I´m not really ready for the blades to know”

“Of course”, Kolivan nods and places his shovel of a hand on Keith´s shoulder. “So when can I meet him?”

“Uh”, Keith says.

When Keith comes home, Lance comes bouncing out of the living room to greet him at the door.

“Keith!”, he squeals, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Lance, jeez”, Keith laughs as he toes off his boots. “What´s up?”

“I got a job!”, Lance exclaims, bouncing on the spot. “I got a job!”

“Lance, that´s amazing!” Keith flings his arms around him, hugs him tight enough to lift him off the ground. Lance hugs him back, wraps his legs around Keith´s thighs as they do a spin, and stumble and almost fall. Keith doesn’t know whose face is redder as they part, but he doesn’t care. He´s proud. “Where?”

“The animal shelter” Lance is bouncing on the spot. “I start tomorrow”

“Lance, that´s amazing”, Keith says again, louder this time. “I´m so proud of you”

Lance´s smile grows even wider at that; his eyes sparkle like those of a child.

“We should celebrate”, Keith says as he hangs up his jacket. “Get some booze and watch a movie or something. Or do you want to go out?”

“Booze and a movie sound perfect”, Lance grins. “And look, I organized the closet” He grabs Keith by the wrist and pulls him to the bedroom, not even flinching when he slips and holds his hand instead. Keith´s heart skips a beat. “The left side is yours and the right is mine” As he motions at the closet Keith first notices the makeshift bandage.

“What happened?”, he asks, grabbing his husband´s hand to check it.

“Found one of your knives” Lance shrugs. “No biggie”

“Can I have a look?” Keith waits for Lance to nod before carefully pulling the scotch tape and toilet paper off his hand. A small red cut stares up at him and Keith frowns; he doesn’t like Lance being hurt.

Lance giggles at that. “Are you going to kiss it better?” He obviously isn’t serious but his face still flushes red when Keith actually lifts his hand to his lips and places a small kiss on his palm.

A few seconds later, when Keith is treating the wound with a bandage from his first-aid kit, he wonders when he became so affectionate. That usually isn’t him. But it feels so… right. And he doesn’t want to stop.

“Thank you”, Lance mumbles with a smile when Keith is done.

“Sorry about the knifes” Keith puts the kit back under the sink. “I can get rid of them if you want me to”

“It´s okay” Lance gets up from where he had been siting on the toilet lid. “I know to watch out now”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I know you love your knives”

Keith laughs. “I do”

“So, shall we try and find some booze?”

Turns out, Keith does still have some liquor stored away in a kitchen cupboard; some half-empty whiskey bottles. “Do we still have juice?”, he asks as he reaches for the the fullest bottle.

“Yeah” Lance hands him a bottle of apple juice from the fridge. “Why?”

“So we can mix it”, Keith replies “You know, like you do at a high school party”

“I´ve never been to a high school party, Keith”, Lance reminds him with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Keith hands him two mugs. “Then I guess we´ll make up for that now”

That sends a smile onto Lance´s face.

They settle on Keith´s squeaky old couch (handed down to him by Ulaz), with a mug of apple-whiskey-but-mostly-whiskey-mix each. “Okay, what do you want to watch?”, Keith asks, reaching for the remote, but Lance stops his hand.

“Or we could just… talk”, he suggests. “Or play a game”

“What game?”, Keith asks, leaning backwards into the cushions with his mug in his hands.

“Well, since this is a high school party substitute I was thinking Truth or Drink”, Lance says with a sly grin, pulling his knees up onto the couch with him.

“Sounds cheesy”, Keith says and takes the first burning sip. “I´m in”

Lance tries his mix and coughs for a few seconds. “Okay, I´ll start”, he says hoarsely. “What´s the gayest thing you´ve ever done?”

“Fucked a guy”, Keith states the obvious, making Lance giggle into his whiskey mug. “What did you expect?” Keith throws both hands into the air, almost spilling his drink. “It doesn’t get much gayer than that”

“I guess marrying a guy is the only thing _even_ gayer”, Lance suggests, and Keith has to admit that he´s right.

“Then _this_ is the gayest thing we´ve _both_ ever done”, he concludes, unable to stop his face from going pink. He takes another gulp before asking: “And what´s the gayest thing you´ve ever done in _public_?”

“I sucked a dick in a movie theater once, I guess that´s pretty gay”, Lance chuckles, ears turning red. He thinks for a moment, then asks: “When did you realize you liked boys?”

Keith raises his eyebrows at that, a little taken aback at his boldness, but this is Lance after all. “Year eight”, he says, “his name was Tailor. Turned out to be a dick” He pauses for a moment. “And you?”

“I was twelve”, Lance says almost a little dreamily. “He summoned my cousin a few times. Good ass”

Keith nods, trying to ignore the small stir of jealousy in his chest, and drinks again. “Your turn again”

“Uhhh”, Lance chews on his lip as he thinks, which is _very_ distracting. “Okay, who was your first kiss?”

“Also Tailor”, Keith props his feet onto the coffee table.

Lance giggles. “How was it?”

“You already asked your question!”

“Come on!” Lance nudges his side with his foot, making him shriek. “Don’t be boring!”

“Fine!”, Keith laughs. “It sucked, okay? Too much teeth”

That makes Lance crack up and he can´t stop laughing for a full minute or two. It´s contagious, making Keith laugh, too, as he watches Lance with burning hot ears and a warm feeling in his stomach.

“What about your first kiss then?”, he asks, still laughing. “Was it really so much better?”

“Oh, it was amazing”, Lance wheezes and takes few deep breaths to calm down enough to speak. “She was my first summoner, and ,like, a really pretty girl and she was a reeeeally good kisser”

Keith frowns at that, pulls his feet onto the couch with him to face Lance. “How old was she?”

“In her twenties”, Lance replies nonchalantly, his cheeks still red from laughing.

“And you were fourteen?”

“Yeah- Keith, let´s not talk about this right now, okay?”, Lance asks, tilting his head a little. “We´re celebrating!”

“Okay”, Keith reluctantly gives in. “Is it my turn to ask?” When Lance nods, he thinks for a moment, then says: “If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Lance rolls his eyes at that. “That´s a boring question”, he says, “You´re supposed to ask me about sex or something, high school party, remember?”

“Since when are you an expert on that, I thought you´ve never been to one?”, Keith shoots back.

“Fuck off, I bet I had more of a social life than you did as a teen!”, Lance laughs and then squeaks when Keith throws a pillow just past his head.

“Okay, _fine_ ”, Keith gives in, “What did you think about the last time you jacked off?” It´s a little risqué, but if Lance wants a high school party, here he goes.

To his surprise, Lance drinks instead of answering. “Are you a top or a bottom?”, he retaliates with a smirk on his lips.

Keith considers drinking, but then he answers. “Switch”, he answers, his face burning hot. “And you?”

Lance looks him in the eye. “Keith, I´m bisexual, of course I do _both_ ”, he says, trying to sound serious but cracking up halfway through.

Keith tries to pretend that having that information doesn’t do anything to his body. Maybe drinking will help? (Spoiler alert: It does not) “Okay, my turn”, he says in an effort to distract himself. “What´s your type? Of guy, I mean”

Lance lifts his mug to his lips, then lowers it again. “You´re my type”, he says quietly, which  sends Keith into a blushing fit and he almost giggles like a school girl. Lance´s question doesn’t help. “Am I your type?”

Keith is afraid his voice might break and embarrass him even more if he tried to speak so he just nods, making Lance chuckle, and quickly downs the rest of his mixture. It amazes him how comfortable he is; he usually wouldn’t even _consider_ doing something like this. Lance really is having a strange effect on him. And Keith doesn’t even mind. He _likes_ it. “You want more?”, he asks as he unscrews the whiskey bottle and pours some into his mug, not even bothering with the apple juice. His words are a little slurred and Lance is a little clumsy, too, as he takes the bottle and mixes a new drink. “My turn again”, Keith decides after taking another drink, though he actually isn’t sure. “What-“

“Would you kiss me if I asked you to?”, Lance interrupts him, and suddenly the small space between them seems nonexistent.

Keith swallows. “Yes”, he answers truthfully, his heart pounding in his ears. “My turn again”, he says quickly when Lance opens his mouth. “Can I kiss you right now?”

“Yes”, Lance answers a little breathlessly.

Like mirror images, the two boys set their mugs down on the coffee table, not breaking eye contact. Keith leans towards him awkwardly but Lance is quicker – they meet in the middle, faces just an inch apart. Keith stares at Lance´s lips, his heart beating like he had been running, and then his husband leans in and kisses him, actually _kisses_ him, and Keith´s eyes fall shut and his heart explodes. It´s innocent at first, just soft lips and little smiles between them, but then Lance´s lips part and he slips his tongue into Keith´s mouth and Keith can´t control himself anymore. He sighs into the kiss, pulls Lance in closer by the back of his neck. His husband falls on top of him, they break the kiss laughing, warm cheeks brushing against each other.

* * *

 

“Can I kiss you again?”, Lance whispers and Keith nods breathlessly and in a heartbeat, their lips are pressed together again. Keith pulls him closer with both arms and Lance melts against him, it feels like the sun is rising in his chest, they fall backwards on the couch against the cushions, Lance held in place by Keith´s warm thighs. They keep making out, their kisses mixed with smiles and giggles. Keith tastes like apple juice and cigarette ash and Lance gets drunk on the taste, on his warmth, his hands on the side of his face. Only when he can feel his heartbeat elsewhere than his chest does he pull away, resting his forehead on Keith´s collarbone to catch his breath.

“ _Fuck_ ”, Keith mumbles into his hair, his hands resting on Lance´s back.

“Not yet, Keith”, Lance mumbles back, making Keith´s chest vibrate with chuckles.

“Was that okay?”, he asks then, making Lance lift his head to look him into the eye. They are sparkling violet, the lids heavy from the alcohol. Lance could get lost in them.

“Keith, are you kidding me? That was perfect”, he tells him, sending that lopsided smile onto his scarred face.

“It was”, his husband agrees quietly, and Lance lays his head down on his chest again, listening to his quick heartbeat. The wolf comes trotting into the room, whimpering to get their attention. “What is it, buddy?”, Keith asks, “You want to go outside?” Lance can´t see the wolf´s reaction, but it must have been a Yes, because Keith sighs and nudges Lance. “Are you up for a walk?”

They´re tipsy and wound up enough to decide on taking the whiskey bottle with them and the wolf waits impatiently by the door while they are giggling and stumbling their way into their boots and jackets. As soon as the door opens, the dog races down the stairs and the two have to run to keep up. They chase the wolf all the way down the stairs, it waits for them by the door and then starts running again when they catch up. Keith is faster than Lance and he grabs him by the hand and pulls him along as they dodge pedestrians on the sidewalk and all the way to the park. Lance expects him to let go when they have stopped running, but Keith does not, so Lance laces their fingers together properly, making Keith smile into the collar of his jacket. He likes how easy they can touch now, how the kiss broke through this imaginary wall that was between them. Lance has always been touchy, but Keith is not and being touched by him is an honor to Lance. He´s special to him.

Suddenly, that fear of not being good enough feels awfully silly to him.

* * *

 

Keith swings their conjoined hands as they walk, mentally blaming the alcohol for his being so affectionate. That and his attraction to Lance. The wolf has long split from them, chasing pigeons around on the lawn. The sun is long gone, the park only illuminated by streetlights and colorfully glowing pixies in the bushes. The wander along the paths in comfortable silence, Keith skillfully unscrewing the bottle with one hand, because he doesn’t want to let go of Lance´s. Anxiety rises higher inside him the longer they are walking like this, his fight or flight instinct kicking in. He drowns it with a few gulps of whiskey, seriously tired of always being scared of affection, of _feelings_. Lance holds out his free hand, Keith hands over the booze. He wouldn’t be surprised if Lance is as nervous as he is. God, Keith feels like he´s fourteen again, on the first and last date with Tailor before that dickhead sent _inappropriate_ photos of him to everyone in their school. But Lance won´t do that to him. Lance won´t fuck him over, won´t hurt him. Still, Keith takes back the bottles for another swig.

They stumble through the park in the dark, now proper drunk, holding hands and bumping into each other every other meter. There are few people here, but they all give them disapproving looks and the pair ducks their heads from them, giggling.

“We should sit down”, Lance says next to him, voice sluggish and slurred. He drags Keith´s hand up along with his to point at a bench. Keith nods and they make their way towards it. They fall down on it heavily, breaking into fits of giggles once more, Keith clutching the now almost empty bottle. “This is fun”, Lance slurs, “I like it”

Keith holds the uncapped bottle up to his face, he´s lost the lid somewhere. “Want more fun?”

Lance nods and grabs the bottle from him, drinks and coughs, then holds it to Keith´s lips. “You drink the rest”, he demands and holds the bottle for Keith as he downs the last few gulps.

There´s a trashcan next to the bench, Keith dumps the bottle into it. The world becomes blurry when he turns his head to fast, his hands are lumpish. His thoughts are sluggish, and the anxiety has no say in it when he shuffles closer to his husband – his _husband_! – and presses a clumsy kiss to his cold cheek. It´s fun to explore that affectionate side of him. He´s touch starved. And having kissed Lance once makes him want to do it again. And again, and again. He glances around himself. There are a few people on the benches around theirs, and they can definitely see them. Okay, that´s still scary, his brain decides, but Keith is stubborn and, more importantly, _gay_.

Lance nestles against his shoulder, humming a little melody. His body is warm next to Keith´s. And that makes Keith want to kiss him. Now that he thinks about it, everything Lance does makes Keith want to kiss him. Has that always been there? Or is it just because he´s drunk? Does he even care right now? Not really. “Lance?”, he mumbles, and Lance mumbles back:

“Yes?”

“Can I- Can I kiss you again?”

Lance lifts his head, leans in until their noses touch. “Yes”, he whispers. His breath smells like whiskey. It´s intoxicating.

“Even though there are people watching?”

That makes Lance move away and glance around them, but he´s back in a heartbeat, closer this time. Their lips brush. “ _Yes_ ”, Lance whispers, and presses their lips together.

A firework explodes in Keith´s chest, even bigger than last time, he pulls Lance closer by the front of his jacket. Lance clasps his hands onto the sides of his face, his bandage soft against Keith´s scar. But even the soft touch is enough to make him flinch away. The kiss breaks.

“Sorry”, Lance whispers, goes to take both hands away, but Keith lays his own on the unbandaged one, keeps it in place. Then he kisses Lance again, softly. He feels Lance smile against his lips and smiles back, his drunk heart happy.

The night is cold, it creeps underneath Keith´s jacket and through his clothes. He shivers.

“Are you cold?”, Lance mumbles next to him and Keith nods. “Wanna go home?”

Keith nods again.

They make their way back, Keith whistling for the wolf every few meters until their pet eventually catches up with them at the edge of the park. Their stroll home is far more leisurely than their way there. Their stumbling more than walking, really, with their arms wrapped around each other for support, cackling into the night. Getting up the stairs is a challenge, but they make it and in the end they both drop onto the bed with their boots and jacket spread through the hall. Keith rolls onto his stomach to look at Lance, who is giggling to himself about… something. “How do you feel?”

“Gay”, Lance replies, then starts laughing even harder.

Keith joins in, dropping his face into the mattress. The bed smells like Lance. He likes it. Loves it. _Fuck_ , he´s drunk.

“We should probably go to sleep”, Lance says through the giggling, “We have work tomorrow”

“Yes, _we_ do”, Keith agrees, lifting his head from the mattress to look at Lance. “Because you have a job now!”

“I do!”, Lance squeaks, rolling onto his side to face Keith. “Did I do good?”

“You did”, Keith smiles, the words just leaving his mouth without even knowing what he´s saying. “You did good, I´m proud of you”

A beaming smile splits Lance´s blushing face. “I did good”, he repeats, giggles again. “You really are proud?”

Keith chuckles and lays a hand on his cheek, running his thumb over his smooth skin. “I´m proud to have you as my husband”, he says, scaring himself because he didn’t want to say that. But he means it. And his anxiety can fuck off right now, Lance deserves to know that he is loved. Loved? _Liked_.

“Husband”, Lance echoes, “Kiss?” And when Keith nods he leans in and tries to kiss him, misses by half an inch. Keith laughs and turns his head to press their lips together. They kiss sloppily, Lance is the first to pull away. “We should probably get ready for bed”, he mumbles.

“Probably”, Keith agrees.

They get ready for bed. Keith is too drunk to bother and go change in the bathroom, he doesn’t care if Lance sees him in his underwear. He´s married to this boy, for fuck´s sake. Let him see The Nipples. Lance does see the nipples and they make him laugh. Or maybe it´s the Mothman tattoo on Keith´s upper arm that has always been hidden under his sleeves until now, and admittedly, it is a little stupid but Keith likes it. God knows it´s not the only tattoo on Keith´s body, his arm and chest are covered. There´s one on his thigh, too, peeking out from under his briefs and Lance stares at him for a solid thirty seconds, face bright red.

Seeing Lance topless for the first time makes Keith´s heart beat faster, too. The tan skin of his chest is riddled with small scars, from fingernails and cigarettes, Lance explains. “Summoners?” Keith asks and when Lance nods he feels the anger bubbling up inside him, has to physically swallow it down. He doesn’t want to ruin the evening by flipping his shit.

Lance traces Keith´s own scar with a finger, Keith shudders. “I can´t tell you yet”, he chokes out and Lance lays a hand on his cheek, the unscarred one.

“That´s okay”, he whispers. “Bed?”

Keith nods, glad that Lance doesn’t push the topic. They climb into bed in their underwear, the alcohol and Lance´s body warming Keith enough that he doesn’t need pajamas. Their movements are clumsy, they elbow each other by accident at least five or six times but do make it underneath the blankets. Keith hits the light switch on the third try, they settle against each other in the dark. Lance´s breath tickles the skin of his neck; his body is half-lying on Keith´s. Keith finds his hand in the dark, holds it. He feels his husband´s heartbeat beating in sync with his own, their breathing eases into the same pattern. Lance´s soft hair tickles his cheek. Keith listens to him fall asleep and when his husband rolls over and his fingers slip away, he moves until he´s hugging him from behind and can hold his hand again.

He doesn’t know what happened that he suddenly can´t keep his hands off of Lance, he just hopes that it won´t stop once he´s sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that there is going to be more Lance POV in the next chapters, but Keith´s issues needed to be adressed. BTW, if you have any headcanons or things you want to happen in this story just leave them in the comments because I do get a lot of inspo from there. Or feel free to contact me on social media, whatever you want, I´m always happy to talk <3


	8. Lance Has Issues With The World - Keith Has Issues With Himself

Keith wakes up in the morning with a throbbing headache. Lance is spread across his chest, still sleeping soundly, drooling onto Keith´s skin. Usually, Keith would be disgusted, but with Lance it´s… cute. Fuck, he´s really got it bad. The memories of what they did last night come back through his foggy brain and he touches his lips in awe. _He kissed Lance_. Kissed. Lance. Somehow his brain can´t comprehend that. He kissed Lance. Lance kissed him. The thought alone makes tears well in his eyes, he tangles a hand in Lance´s messy hair, presses him to his chest, and chokes back a sob. Fuck. He is so used to feeling nothing that feeling _anything_ is like feeling _everything_. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Lance_ is his _husband,_ that beautiful, smart, funny boy here is the man he could spend his life with. And that is seriously messing Keith up right now.

His quiet crying wakes Lance, he stirs on his chest. “Keith?”, he mumbles, voice raspy. “You okay?” He lifts his head, looks at Keith with tired eyes. “Hey, what´s wrong?”

“Nothing”, Keith mumbles, wiping the few stray tears off his face. “It´s nothing”

“You sure?”, Lance yawns, his jaw cracking. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me”

“Are you hungover too?”, Keith ungracefully changes the topic, “Because I am”

“Selkies don’t get hangovers”, Lance replies, though he still looks concerned. “Is that your way of asking me to make you coffee?”

“Maybe”, Keith mumbles, and Lance laughs.

He throws back the blanket and untangles himself from Keith, slowly climbing out of bed. Keith suddenly realizes that they are both just in their underwear. Lance looks awfully skinny as he lifts his arms over his head and stretches, bending his waist just a little too far to be humanly possible. His ribs are visible through his skin. His thighs seem to have the same perimeter as Keith´s upper arms. Keith suddenly remembers the oil spill a few years ago. “Lance?”, he asks, forcing himself to sit up in bed despite his head spinning with every move. His husband turns around.

“Yeah?”

“Did you- did you have enough to eat? Like, your family?”

The smile Lance gives him is the saddest one Keith has seen so far. “Not really”, he admits, “Fish are dying. The sea is polluted. And I gave most of my food to the pups”

“Fuck” Keith begins to climb out of bed. “Get dressed, I´m making you breakfast”

They end up making the food together, because Keith has to down two black coffees before he can even function, and he can feel Lance silently judging him over the rim of his tea cup as he almost gives up halfway through an omelet. Lance takes over then, grabbing the skillet handle from Keith. Keith silently moves over to make himself a third coffee and grab some painkillers. He´s really craving a cigarette, but he doesn’t want Lance to see him smoke. He´ll have one at work.

He looks at Lance from across the table, watches him pick at his food with messy hair and tired eyes. _That´s his husband._ His heart does a flip. And his brain, now clearer as the pills are kicking in, makes a decision. He puts his fork down a little too forcefully, making Lance look up from his food. “Keith?”

“Lance, I have to tell you something”, Keith says through gritted teeth, his hands trembling as he balls his fist. _Get your shit together and talk to him._ _Now or never_.

“Okay?” Lance frowns in confusion and puts his fork down.

“Look, I really suck at feelings”, Keith begins, and he reaches across the table to lay his shaky hand on top of Lance´s. Lance turns his hand and laces their fingers together. Keith takes a deep breath and continues. “Okay, I suck at them and they make me anxious and I don’t know how to be affectionate”, he pauses to see Lance´s reaction: a simple nod, a tiny smile. “But I really _like_ you and I like kissing you and I like holding you at night. And I want to make this work. But I´m bad at stuff like that. So please forgive me if I mess things up at first. And please be patient with me, because I want this, and I want _you_ , okay?” He doesn’t realize he´s crying until Lance is around the table and wiping his tears away before enclosing him in his arms.

“Hey”, he mumbles soothingly, “Hey, don’t worry. We´ll make this work, okay? Is that why you were crying this morning?”

Keith nods, sniffling. When did he become this much of a crybaby?

* * *

 

“It´s okay”, Lance whispers into Keith´s bedhead, then giggles quietly. “I really like kissing you too”

The tips of Keith´s ears go red. “That´s good”, he says, sniffling again. Lance reaches out to grab him a paper towel and he blows his nose with it, then throws the crumbled-up tissue into the bin.

“Nice throw”, Lance mumbles and grins down at his husband. It´s interesting to see Keith from above for once, because he´s sitting and Lance is standing. “Can I kiss you? Since you like it so much?”, he grins.

“Shut up”, Keith mumbles, but he does pull Lance down to peck his lips.

“Are you okay?” Lance tugs a strand of hair behind his ear, it almost gets tangled in his piercings.

Keith nods, leaning into Lance´s touch ever so slightly. “Go finish your food”, he mumbles, and Lance gives a mock salute before returning to his seat.

He watches Keith scroll through his phone and pick at his eggs and his heart is heavy with joy. It´s hard to believe that it´s been only days since they met because Keith already feels so much like his home, his _family_ that it makes his tummy warm when he thinks about it. Waking up in his arms has been unbelievable. Kissing him feels so different from kissing a summoner – there is nothing dirty or scary about it, it´s amazing. It makes Lance happy. Keith makes Lance happy.

“I have to be at work at eight”, Lance says a few minutes later, when they are done eating. “So I have to go soon”

“Okay”, Keith says with his back turned to Lance, he´s loading the dishwasher. When he´s done he asks: “Do you want me to walk you there?”

“Nah, it´s okay” Lance downs the rest of his tea and hands Keith the empty mug.

“Are you excited?”, Keith grins at him, shutting the dishwasher with his foot.

“Yeah”, Lance admits, rubbing his forearms with his hands. “Did you mean that last night? That you´re proud?”

Keith goes bright red, he nods. “Really proud”, he says. He walks Lance to the door, kisses him goodbye. And by the time Lance is down on the street, the nervousness has fallen off him.

* * *

 

The anxiety kicks in a few minutes after the door has fallen shut behind Lance. Keith is working at a draft when a little voice at the back of his head asks: _Are you seriously telling yourself that you have a crush on someone you met a few days ago?_ And when Keith tries to ignore it, it becomes louder. _It can´t be normal to get this hot and bothered just from kissing some. What will happen when he finds out what you are? What you **did**? _ Keith slams his hand down on his desk and calls Shiro.

It takes his brother a while to answer, Keith is directed to voicemail three times. When Shiro does finally pick up he does not sound happy.

“Keith, what the fuck, I´m have a class-“

“I think I fucked up”, Keith interrupts him.

“What?”

“I think I fucked things up, like we´re moving too fast and I think it´s fucking things up and I´m freaking out, Shiro, what should I do?”

“Woah, Keith, slow down”, Shiro says, “What happened? Did you fight?”

“No, no, we _kissed_ ”, Keith says, “But-“

“You _kissed_?” Shiro sounds genuinely excited. “But that’s good!”

“I´ve known him for three days!”

“Four. And I kissed Adam two hours into meeting him”, Shiro retaliates, “Okay, walk me through it”, he says when Keith opens his mouth to protest again.

“Okay, so Lance got a job yesterday and-“

“A job? Good for him!”

“Yeah, and we wanted to celebrate so we got some booze and we played Truth or Drink because Lance has never been to a high school party and we wanted to make up for it, so we played that and we flirted, at least I think we flirted, and then we _kissed_ and then kissed again and again and cuddled in bed and while I was drunk it felt amazing but now I´m _freaking_ _out_ , Shiro”

Shiro is silent for a few agonizing seconds. Then he asks: “Are you serious?”

“Yeah”, Keith says, a little out of breath from his rambling.

“One second”, Shiro says and then Keith hears him yell: “Adam! They kissed!” And a faint “ _Yes_!” followed by cheering kids. He chooses to ignore it. Let Shiro have his fun. “Okay, I´m back”, Shiro says, “Are you seriously freaking out?”

“ _Yes_!”

“Okay, okay, let me think”, Shiro says, “Why exactly are you freaking out?”

“Because I made out with a guy I´ve only known for a few days?”

“Keith, I know for a fact that you´ve done more with people you´ve known less, so what´s the real issue here?”

“That he´ll find out what I did”, Keith admits quietly, “I really like him. I don’t want him to think that I´m a monster”

Shiro sighs. “Keith, you´re not a monster”, he says firmly, “It was an accident, you didn’t know how to control your powers”

Keith doesn’t reply, throws the mug on his desk against the wall. It shatters into a thousand pieces. Their household is down to two mugs now.

“ _Keith_.” Shiro is clearly running out of patience. “Let me make this quick: calm your shit and then _talk to him_.”

“I did!” Keith throws his hand into the air. “This morning I told him that I was bad at feelings but really wanted to make it work!”

“ _Good_ ”, Shiro says. “Now do that forever. Talk to him about everything. Even the accident. Okay?”

“Okay”

“I have to go now. You two should come over for dinner sometime”

“Okay”

 _“Talk to him!”_ And _, click_ , he´s gone.

Keith collapses onto the couch behind him, burying his face in his hands. Shiro has a point; he´s slept with guys just hours after meeting them, and a part of him is seriously relieved that they´ve gotten that awkward thing that is a first kiss out of the way without having at be awkward _at_ _all_ , but this is still different. This is a _marriage_. It´s serious. Keith doesn’t want to mess it up by moving too fast. And there is one more thing he is sure about: Lance cannot find out about what he did.

* * *

 

Lance is early. The shelter is only a few streets away, the walk there takes less than five minutes, but Lance did not want to be late on his first day. He awkwardly waits by the front door until it becomes eight o´clock and he´s on time. But Romelle spots him out there and waves him inside, giggling as she teases him about being early.

“What´s up?”, she asks him as she´s digging through a cupboard behind the front desk. “Are you nervous?”

“A little”, he admits and takes the uniform she hands him. Forest green, it would go great with his auburn lipstick. Hopefully Keith will allow him to wear some.

“Don’t worry”, she smiles, “After what you did with that kelpie you have nothing to be nervous about. You can get changed in there, I´ll be in the back.” She points him to the washroom. Lance nods his head and scurries over to the restroom.

He runs into another employee on his way to the back, a brown-haired elf with blue eyes. “You must be Lance!”, he greets him. “I´m Bandur, Romelle´s brother”

“Hi!” Lance shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise. Romelle is in the back, I think she wants you to help her with the morning feed”

“Then I better get going”, Lance grins, “Wouldn’t want let them wait”

Bandur laughs and steps aside to let him through.

Lance finds Romelle in the dogs´ cage, a stack of buckets by the door. “Come in”, she calls out to him, “But try not to leave the door open for too long, this one here is a quick one”

Lance keeps an eye on that particular dog as he slips inside.

“Okay, for the dogs we just fill up their bowls and check that they have fresh water and I´m also going to open that door-” She points at a kitty door in the back wall. “So that way they can go into the outside cages”

Lance nods, trying to save all the information. “Do all cages have outside space?”

“Only the ones on this side, unfortunately” Romelle pours kibble into one of the metal bowls. “The water fills itself up again but feeding them without magic is a better bonding exercise, I find”, she explains.

Lance nods again. “Got it”

They go from cage to cage – cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, small dragons and an actual _bear_ – feeding them and opening doors for some. Lance tries his best to remember everything Romelle explains, but eventually notices that there are instruction signs on the cage doors as well. Finally, they get to the last bucket: the algae. Romelle hands it to Lance with a grin on her face. “Your time to shine!”

Lance nods, gripping the bucket handle tightly as he slips into the cage. The kelpie doesn’t seem to notice him at first, but when Lance coos at him again it looks up. He crouches down to scratch it under the chin before replacing the dried-up algae in his bowl with fresh kelp. The colt squints at him in pleasure, fin happily slapping the floor.

“Unbelievable”, Romelle says behind him. “How do you _do_ that?”

Lance just smiles and shrugs – what he always does when someone confronts him about his non-humanness. But he has a feeling Romelle is probably not going to let him get away with that. “So you and your brother run this place?”, he asks as they put away the empty buckets.

“Yeah”, she replies, throwing the dried kelp into the bin. “We live above it. Usually only one of us is here, Bandur showed up today to meet you. And because the vet is coming for a checkup”

“Well, I feel honored nonetheless”, Lance says, earning himself some ringing laughter. “And what do we do besides feed?”

“Well, luckily the cages clean themselves so we don’t have to do that” They leave the storage room and make their way to the front again, past the cages. “But we like to spend time with them and of course people come in every now and again, looking to adopt or bringing us strays and stuff. Honestly you can do what you want as long as the animals are happy”

“Alright”, Lance says, then something crosses his mind. “Is there like a contract or something for me to sign?” The internet told him that there are contracts sometimes. He looked it up on the way here.

Romelle slaps a hand against her forehead. “Yeah, of course! One sec” She hops over to the front desk, pulls a sheet of paper out of a drawer. “Here you go”

“Thanks” Lance takes the document from her, sits down to read through it. His salary is 10 bucks per hour, eight hours per day on weekdays. Lance has never had the opportunity to earn this much money before. He signs it in a heartbeat.

Romelle allows him to accompany Bandur and the vet on their routine while she tends to the front desk. The vet´s name is Hira, she´s a tall elf with short pink hair and a resting bitch face that could seriously rival Keith´s. She greets Lance with a handshake and Bandur with a fist bump, then leads the way to the cages. Lance trails behind, looking over their shoulders nervously and trying to take in every detail; the way Bandur holds a kitten so Hira can check the teeth, how they apply ointment to a bunny´s infected eye, how to handle a dragon without getting burned. Bandur flashes him a small smile whenever their eyes meet, Lance makes sure to return it.

“Wait, let Lance handle this one, Hira”, Bandur says when at last they get to the kelpie, taking both Lance and the doctor by surprise. “Romelle tells me he´s had quite the effect on it yesterday”

Hira eyes Lance, then shrugs. “Alright, fine with me” She motions for Lance to follow her into the cage, they crouch down next to the colt. “Okay, you need to hold him like so…” She holds her hands over the kelpie´s flanks and nods in approval as he mimics her movements. “Make sure he stays still, I need to check his teeth”

Lance nods, kneels over the colt to hold it in place with his thighs, which earns him an impressed nod from Hira. He rubs calming patterns into its shoulders with his thumbs, cooing softly to make the kelpie relax. Hira looks up briefly but doesn’t say anything. She checks her patient´s teeth and then the eyes and ears, each one followed by a sigh.

“It´s bad isn’t it?”, Bandur asks from his spot by the door and Hira nods.

“If he doesn’t stop eating again he´s not going to last longer than a few days”

Lance has to swallow thickly at that. This doesn’t feel fair. This poor baby he has between his legs right now has done nothing wrong and deserves no less than the world, but because it was treated so poorly all his life that there´s no will to carry on left in it. Lance can feel it. And he really fucking hates it.

“He ate yesterday”, Bandur says, crouching down to pet their problem child´s head, “When Lance was with him”

Hira looks at him and then Lance with a mixture of surprise and approval. “Well, then he better gets to work or this little fella is not going to have much time left”

All Lance can do is nod.

Allura calls him around noon, while Lance is in the backyard for his lunch break. It´s where the outside cages are, along with a small garden table and a few birdfeeders. He sits on one of the lawn chairs to answer the phone.

“I hope I´m not bothering you, I just wanted to see how you were doing”, she greets him and Lance can´t help but smile at the sound of her voice.

“No, it´s cool, I have some free time”

“How are you doing?”, she asks. Lance can hear classical music in the background, what she listens to when baking.

“I´m good”, he tells her with a smile, “Really good! I have a job now!”

“Congratulations!” She´s smiling, he can hear it and it makes his own smile grow wider. “What kind of job?”

“At an animal shelter, just a few streets from home. Keith got his wolf here”, Lance explains, drawing imaginary patterns onto the plastic tabletop.

“So the two of you are alright?”

“We´re great, actually”, Lance says and lowers his voice to add: “We kissed last night. It was amazing”

“Lance, I am so glad to hear that”, she says and it sounds genuine. “Just wait until I tell Lotor about this, he´s going to be so happy for you!”

And just like that, Lance´s good mood is gone. “Yeah, I bet”, he mumbles, dragging a sharp fingernail across the table. “He didn’t seem very supportive of us last time we talked”

“He´s just looking out for, Lance”, she tells him, then changes the topic. “I´m guessing you are not going to, uh, _visit_ us anytime soon?”

“No, princess, I´m afraid not”, Lance answers and immediately regrets using the old pet name when he hears her smile. Their relationship is in the past, he reminds himself. He´s Keith´s now. “How, uh- how are things?”, he asks in an effort to move on with their conversation.

“Fine”, she replies, her voice sounds strangely hollow. “Lotor is working a lot”

“Sounds like Lotor” is the only reply Lance can think of. He can feel guilt stirring in his gut, over having to abandon his place in the Altean´s marriage. “Hey, Allura?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you a new selkie? I bet some of my cousins are up for it”

She smiles again, a sad huff of air into the phone. “No, Lance, thank you. But no one can replace what we had”

The conversation dies after that and Lance is strangely happy about it. He loves Allura, he really does, but there´s a lot of baggage there, in her marriage and in their past, and he has to look towards the future now. And that future is with Keith. _Is_ Keith.

His future is home before him today, Lance trips over his boots in the hall. “Keith?”, he calls. “I´m home!”

Keith appears in the doorway to the living room, a smile on his lips. “How was work?”

“It was good!” Lance toes off his shoes, puts them into the shoe rack and Keith´s too while he´s at it.

“Yeah?” Keith´s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Tell me about it”

And then it all comes bubbling out, from Romelle and Bandur over the vet to the kelpie colt and how much Lance likes it. The only thing he leaves out is his talk with Allura, since it has nothing to do with work. And he doesn’t want Keith to think he´s a slut.

* * *

 

Keith listens to him ramble with a smile on his face, and an even bigger one in his heart. “I´m so proud of you”, he says when Lance has finished a little breathlessly, and he means it.

Lance blushes a deep red, looks down at his feet. “I never thought I would have a job one day”, he mumbles and Keith suddenly realizes that his husband´s life would be playing out very differently if it hadn’t been for Keith accidentally marrying him. How different his _own_ life would be. And it makes him even happier about this. About _them_.

“Are you hungry?”, he asks, “I thought we could make something with that fish we bought the other day”

“Flatfish”, Lance says, ears still red. His eyes are glistening. “Yes. I´m starving”

While Lance has a shower to wash the shelter off of him, Keith gets started in the kitchen. His stomach is rumbling as soon as he opens the fridge and smells food, because he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, since he wanted them to eat together. _Look at me being domestic,_ he thinks to himself as he pulls out his phone to google a recipe for flatfish.

“Lance, help”, he whines when his husband enters the kitchen five minutes later and he´s still sitting on the counter with RecipesForDumbasses.com pulled up. “I found like a hundred recipes for… _that_ ” he gestures at the flatfish on its bed of Nori over on the table. “And all of them contain either krill or a fuckton of yeast”

“Selkie food”, Lance shrugs. His hair is still wet and dripping onto the fabric of-

“Is that _my_ hoodie?”, Keith asks in amusement. He puts down his phone.

“Maybe”, Lance grins, schlepping past him to examine the flatfish.

“I did not drive us all the way to Arus if you´re going to steal my clothes anyway”, Keith says, but he´s not serious. Lance just sticks his tongue out at him.

“Get your ass off the counter”, he commands, “I know a recipe”

Keith tries to help, he really does, but peeling potatoes is the only one of the tasks at hand that he dares to do. Lance has switched on the ancient radio on the windowsill, found an elvish station. Keith dopily stares at his back as he hums along, swaying from side to side as he grabs ingredients from around the kitchen and gathers them all on the table. Keith eyes with curiosity, he didn’t even know they _have_ oregano. “That´s not weed, is it?”, he asks Lance as he sits down at the other side of the table, just to make sure.

“Nope”, Lance replies, flashing Keith a smile before tending to his chopping board. “Why, are you a stoner?”

“Not really”, Keith admits, finally remembering that he is supposed to be peeling potatoes right now. “Only tried it once, on a date in high school. You?”

“A few times with summoners”, Lance answers, eyes fixed on the flatfish as he starts to perform fucking _surgery_ on it. “Wasn’t really my thing, selkies don’t blend with weed very well. But if a summoner asks you to do something you do it, that’s how it works” He removes the head with one smooth curve of his knife. “A date with whom, Taylor again?”

“No, his name was James” Keith working his potato with the peeler to try and get rid of a sprout. “Didn’t work out. What do you mean, `that’s how it works´?”

Lance shrugs, his sharp nails picking the fish apart with fascinating precision. “You know, if they ask you to kiss them, you kiss them, if they want to do drugs you do drugs, if they want you to shove an eggplant up their ass then you shove a fucking eggplant up their ass”

“Fucking hell” Keith hacks at the poor potato harshly enough to leave it in pieces. Lance didn’t deserve that hellish life. Thank _god_ Keith put an end to that. “So you mean even if you don’t want to have sex with them, you _still_ _have_ _to_?”

“Yeah”, Lance replies far too casually, hands not even flinching as they are working the flatfish.

“Lance, that´s fucking _rape_ ” Keith stares at his husband in horror, potato and peeler long forgotten in his hands.

Finally, Lance looks up. “It´s no-“, he begins, then his face twists, and he averts his gaze, “I mean, yeah, it is, but- it´s okay, really”

“Lance, it´s not fucking okay” Keith slams his potato down. “You know it´s not _fucking_ okay!”

Lance looks at him again, eyes suddenly glistening. “I know it´s not”, he says quietly and his lower lips trembles at his words, “But I couldn’t exactly do anything about it, could I.” He slaps the shreds back onto the fish, wipes his hands on a piece of paper and wraps his arms around himself, eyes fixed on the pink sky outside. “I didn’t have a choice, okay”, he whispers. “I didn’t have a fucking _choice_ ”

Keith digs the heels of his hands in his eyeballs so hard he sees galaxies. _Great job you idiot_ , he tells himself, _real_ _sensitive_. He lets his hands drop and slips off his chair, walking around the table to his husband. “Look, I´m sorry”, he mumbles, wanting to lay a hand on his shoulder but dropping it halfway. “I didn’t mean to upset you”

“It´s okay” Lance´s voice is wet. He doesn’t sound okay.

“It´s not, it´s not your fault and I just snapped at you like that-“, Keith tries but Lance turns around and cuts him off.

“Really, it´s okay”, he says sharply, then takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders slump. “I mean, someone had to knock it into me sometime” He smiles weakly. His eyes are red.

“Can I hug you?”, Keith asks carefully, unsure if it´s the right thing to do. But Lance holds out his arms, looping them around Keith´s neck and pulling himself to his feet. Keith hugs him back as he clings to him, fingers trembling as they dig into his back. “I´m sorry you had to go through that”, he mumbles.

“At least it´s over now”, Lance sniffles, his tears dropping down the crook of Keith´s neck. “Never again”

“Never again”, Keith promises, “Never again”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag urself im adam.  
> Let me know what you think! And if you have any ideas or headcanons for this story let me know about them too! Social media is in my bio  
> Edit: would anyone be interested in reading one of my existing oneshots or an entirely new one in German? I need to practice I think


	9. Lance And Keith Are Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment. the author is in desperate need of validation

“I told Kolivan about us”, Keith tells his husband over the potato peels. They´ve picked up their cooking again, after a long hug that has left Keith´s cheeks warm and his heart pounding.

“Kolivan?”, Lance asks, and Keith suddenly realizes how little they actually know about each other´s lives.

“He owns the parlor”, he explains, “He´s like a father to me”

“Ah”, Lance says, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he picks the bones out of the fish by hand. Keith begins to wonder if this particular technique is common in selkie food or if it´s just Lance being Lance. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth” Keith shrugs. “That I had no idea what I was doing when I gave you your pelt but that I couldn’t be more happy that I did”

Lance´s cheeks flush a deep red, he ducks his head to hide it from Keith. “And what did he say?”, he asks as he salts a pot of water and throws the fish into it. “Potatoes, please” He holds out a hand.

Keith hands him the uneven pieces he has produced. “He said that he supports us”, he says wiping his hands on his jeans and getting up to throw away the peels.

“That´s nice”, Lance says a little absentmindedly as he sprinkles the not-weed into the pot, along with other… herbs, then carries it to the stove. “I, uh, I talked to Allura today”, he turns the stove to the highest setting, then turns to Keith. “I told her we kissed. She said she and Lotor are happy for us”

Keith can´t help the way his face twitches at the mention of Lotor´s name. “She ships it” is the only thing he can think of to say, and he doesn’t even really know what it means. Adam taught it to him. But it makes Lance huff out a laugh, so it´s good enough for him. “I told Shiro about it, too”, he admits, “And that- that I was nervous we were moving too fast. He talked some sense into me”

Lance tilts his head to the side. “Moving too fast?”, he asks.

Keith scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah”, he says, drawing the word out, “Because I… I don’t want to ruin this by rushing things or something, you know?”

“Do you feel like we´re rushing?”, Lance asks, a soft line between his eyebrows.

“No”, Keith answers after a moment, and he means it. “This feels right”

“It does”, Lance agrees quietly, stepping closer and laying a cool hand on his cheek. His eyes flicker down to Keith´s lips, waits for him to nod, kisses him softly. Something tugs at Keith´s chest, his heart, and he pulls Lance closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him close. His lips are tingling when they break apart, cheeks flushed.

He´s _so_ fucked.

The flatfish is surprisingly delicious. They don’t talk during the first half of their meal at all, just stuff their faces with the soft tunes of elvish music in the background. Lance is the first to speak, through a mouthful of fish and potato:

“So what lead you to become a tattoo artist?”

Keith swallows his bite before answering. “It wasn’t exactly my childhood dream”, he says, “But the blades know my mother and they offered me a place after I got kicked out of school”

“Why´d you get kicked out?”

“Got into a fist fight during class. I think that was the last straw”, Keith chuckles. “As you might have noticed, I have some anger issues”

“Yeah, that´s kinda hard to miss”, Lance grins, “But you hide them pretty well in my opinion”

“Why, thank you”, Keith jokes. He tilts his bowl to get the last spoonful.

“And who did you fight?”, Lance asks, leaning back to drink the last bit of stew straight from the bowl.

“James”

“Weed-James?”, Lance asks in astonishment, face reappearing from the depths of his dish.

“Weed-James”, Keith confirms.

“Why the hell did you fight Weed-James?!”

“He was being a dick!”, Keith defends himself, “I was an angry teen, okay?”

“I would have never guessed”, Lance replies sarcastically.

Keith throws his napkin at him.

* * *

 

“Shiro told me something”, Keith says out of nowhere when they´re sitting on the sofa with their goodnight-tea a while after. “When I called him this morning”

Lance raises his eyebrows at that. “And what wisdom did he share with you?”, he asks and takes a sip of his tea.

“That I need to talk to you” Keith tucks his feet into the sofa crease. “Like, _really_ talk. Communicate”

“Sounds good”, Lance says, not sure where this is going. “Is there anything… _specific_ you want to talk about?”

“Uh”, Keith says and stares into his tea. “I mean- yeah, there are _some_ things, but…” He swallows thickly.

Lance lays a hand on his ankle, because it´s the easiest to reach. “It´s okay, you don’t have to do it now”, he tells him softly and sees Keith visibly relax. “Let´s just agree to try and talk about everything, okay?”

Keith nods quickly, his fingers tapping a fast rhythm against his mug. Lance rubs his ankle, then leans back into the cushions, sipping his tea. “Are you tired? You look exhausted”

“A little, yeah”, Keith admits. “But I kind of want to sit here a little longer, it´s so peaceful”

“It is”, Lance agrees, stretching first one leg past Keith´s head and rotating the ankle, then the other. His joints crack and crunch like they always do and he overstretches each calf a little before pulling it back. “How was your day?”

Keith, who has watched Lance´s little routine with an expression displaying mild horror, blinks a few times before answering. “Okay, I guess” he shrugs.

Lance nudges him with his big toe. “C´mon, tell me about it”, he grins, “Communication!”

“Alright, you menace”, Keith laughs as Lance keeps toeing his side, holding his mug out of reach. “Stop, I´ll tell you, stop!”, he shrieks, then laughs. “Stop it or I won´t tell you!”

Lance gives in at that, but not before giving his husband one last stub. “Now tell me!”, he demands.

A smile tugs at Keith´s lips as he speaks, both inked hands wrapped around his steaming mug. “Okay, so my first client wanted his ex-girlfriend´s name removed…”

And Lance just sits there and listens to his _husband_ tell him about his day, with his cup of tea and his feet buried between the cushions and that stupid smile on his face and in that moment, he realizes just how much he _likes_ this, _likes_ _Keith_. This right now, this peaceful domestic moment, this is exactly what he has dreamt about since his first summoner, this safety and peace and warmth in his chest.

They go to bed not long after, when their mugs are empty and Lance has learned everything about Keith´s day. The wolf is curled up on his pillow already and the two brush their teeth and turn off all lights except the one by the bed. This night is colder than the last, they get out their sleeping clothes again.  “Tell me about your tattoos”, Lance says from where he´s sitting on the bed, watching Keith change into his nightwear. Keith stops mid-shirt, tugs it off again. He looks down his body, at the ink on his chest and arms, all the way down to the knuckles of his fingers.

“All of them?”

“Yeah” Lance leans back onto his hands, the bed creaks under his weight. “All of them”

Keith sits down on the bed next to him, holds out both hands, palms facing down and fingers outstretched. The runes on his knuckles are all magic, he explains, ensuring force (for punching stuff), strength (so he doesn’t break his hands while punching), along with one against trembling, to harden the skin, and one he skips altogether. Lance decides not to ask. They travel up to his wrists and forearms, more strength runes, a stylized dagger, a moth. The galaxy wrapping around his right biceps that he says represents his brother and that Lance can´t help but run his fingertips over, that stupid mothman on the other side, that he already loves so much. All the runes in between, for good luck, health, no bad dreams. The vertical lines on his chest, likes wings underneath his collarbones, black and heavy, and the words _patience_ _yields_ _focus_ on the left side of his ribs. “Shiro´s handwriting”, Keith explains and Lance leaves a trail of goosebumps as he runs his hands over it.

“They´re beautiful”, he tells him, and he means it. From the scorpion behind his left ear to the knife running down his right thigh, tip just peaking out from under his briefs, they´re all beautiful.

Keith blushes and pulls on his shirt, reaching up to tilt the window. “Sleep?”, he asks, and Lance´s answer is replaced with a yawn, which conveys exactly what he wanted to say.

They settle underneath the blankets, laying next to each other at first but when Keith holds out his arm Lance snuggles against his side. His hand wanders in the dark, sleepily travels up Keith´s neck and making him chuckle and then shiver as he reaches his jaw, traces it – and accidentally brushes against the scar. He flinches back immediately, feels Keith tense up. “Sorry”, he whispers, letting his hand fall limp on his husband´s chest.

“It´s okay”, Keith mumbles, and then, after a moment of silence. “It was a housefire”

“A fire”, Lance echoes, now wide awake.

“I was nine”, Keith continues, though he sounds like he´s telling the story to himself and not Lance, his voice hollow and his heart beating into Lance´s palm as he lays a hand over it. “Shiro had just turned eighteen, Matt was eleven. Our- our house in Kerberos, the curtains caught fire and then the couch and then _everything_ and-“ he breathes heavily for a few heartbeats “and Shiro grabbed me and pulled me outside and a piece of the ceiling hit my face and it hurt like fucking _hell_. But Matt and my dad, they were still inside and I begged Shiro not go back in there but he did and he got Matt out – his arm was badly burned and his face and chest too and they had to amputate but all he cared about was our dad and that- that he couldn’t make it out-“ a choking sound escapes his throat, he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. Lance runs his hand along his forearm, feels his muscles relax at least a little under his fingers. “Shiro became my guardian as soon as they found the body. Because mom wasn’t there anyway”

Lance doesn’t know to say _. I´m sorry_ doesn’t feel right, _it´ll be okay_ feels even worse. “Thank you for telling me”, he whispers into the dark.

“I mean, that’s what this ist about, isn’t it?”, Keith mumbles and Lance nudges him.

“I still appreciate it”, he mumbles and trails a fingertip along Keith´s collarbone, feeling him shiver. “I bet that´s hard to talk about”

“It is” Keith lays his hand over Lance´s, it stills. “But I´m glad I told you”

* * *

 

Keith stares into the dark as he feels Lance fall asleep on his chest. His heart is racing, his head is filled with a wild storm of thoughts and feelings – but mostly, relief. It´s out, his secret is out. Well, most of it. And that´s all that will ever come across Keith´s lips. The door creaks open, the wolf trots inside. He lays his snout onto the mattress with a whine, nudges Keith´s calf. “Fine”, Keith whispers, “But don’t wake him” The wolf jumps onto the bed, curls up by their feet. Lance stirs, his fingers curling against Keith´s chest. “Shh” Keith presses his cheek against Lance´s soft hair. It´s become a lot straighter over the last days. Hah, straight. As if. But has it really only been a few days? Keith feels like he´s known Lance for years. _A connection_ , Shiro would call it, Adam would probably joke about laugh at first sight. Keith doesn’t know what it is. He only knows it´s real.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but their 7 AM alarm tears into his dream and shatters it to pieces. He blinks away the last images of soft blue eyes and happy smiles and groans quietly.

“I know”, Lance mumbles into the pillow next to him. He´s hugging one of Keith´s arms to his chest. “I don’t want to get up either” He lets go of Keith´s arm, rolls onto his back and stretches with a theatrical groan. “I want to lie here forever” He glances over at Keith; whose eyes are barely open. “With you”

“Forever´s a long time”, Keith mumbles, draping his arms over his face. “Are you sure?”

“One thousand percent”, Lance assures him, sitting up and smacking a kiss onto Keith´s forearm before getting up.

“You´re being sappy”, Keith calls after him as his husband makes his way to the bathroom. But he can´t help his smile.

Lance has to actually force him out of bed – Keith blames his selkie-genes for his being so… _active_ at this hour. “I don’t even _need_ to be awake yet”, he complains through the foam from brushing his teeth. “My first appointment is at nine!”

“You´re having breakfast with me, grumpy cat”, Lance tells him. He´s holding a wash bag; _his makeup bag_ , Keith realizes. “Because that´s what people do!”

“Hell, I mean, I _have_ _to_ then, wouldn’t want to become an _outcast_ or anything”, Keith replies sarcastically but he does reach for his toothbrush. Out of the corner of his eye he catches Lance sticking his tongue out at him and huffs out a laugh foamy with toothpaste.

“Hey, Keith?”, Lance asks while Keith is rinsing out his mouth two minutes later.

“Huh?”

“Can I-“ Lance fumbles with the bag in his hand, he looks nervous. “Can I wear lipstick?”

“What? Of course, you can, why-“ Keith stops mid-sentence, realizing why. “Lance, I told you before, you´re my _equal_ , not my property, okay? You can wear whatever you want”

Lance nods, but he still looks a little unsure, so Keith steps close and lays a hand on his cheek. “Your body doesn’t belong to anyone but yourself, okay? You can do with it what you want”

Lance nods again, a little choked sound escapes him. Then he unzips the bag and starts rummaging through it.

* * *

 

He decides on the auburn lipstick, the one that goes with his work uniform, and a little mascara. Keith watches him apply it like Lotor used to on the mornings after, but differently. His expression isn’t hungry or possessive, it´s soft and with stars in his eyes, maybe even a little impressed at how easily Lance traces the shape of his lips. After he´s popped the lid back on he turns to Keith and asks: “You like it?”

“Yes”, Keith says immediately, both of his hands working to gather the mess that is his hair into a jaw clip. He swears under his breath when the clip only holds about half of his angry mop, face scrunched up in concentration.

“Let me help you”, Lance offers, stepping behind him and gently nudging Keith´s hands away. His husband has to crouch a little to allow Lance to properly work his magic and it does take a hairbrush and several tries but he manages to untangle and collect all of Keith´s hair and gather them into the clip without him ending up looking like either a homeless hairstylist or someone who´s trying too hard to be low maintenance. “There you go”, he says and rubs Keith´s shoulders when he´s done.

Keith rises back to full height and examines his hairdo in the mirror. “Nice”, he mumbles and reaches up to try and smooth his hair back, only to have his hands swatted away by Lance.

“Don’t touch it! Don’t touch the art!”

Keith laughs. “Got it” He shoots one last glance at himself, then turns to his husband. “Let´s hope I don’t ruin this by changing shirts”

Turns out, all of Keith´s t-shirts are skin tight, and while Lance sees _absolutely_ _no_ _issue_ with that, Keith is adamant about not wanting to ruin the hairdo.

“I can just redo it, Keith”, he says as Keith carefully pulls a huge grey jumper over his head, tucking the seam into his belt.

“No need to”, Keith says almost a little proudly as he checks his hair in the mirror through the open bathroom door.

Lance chuckles as he tugs on his shirt, pursing his lips to protect fabric and lipstick from each other. “Breakfast?”

They settle for cereal and coffee, peacefully munching as they scroll through their phones.

“This guy called Stanley died”, Lance says into the silence. “Sucks”

“Yeah”, Keith replies, briefly looking up from his phone. “He was my idol when I was a kid. Best mage ever”

“Some people said he could create entire universes with just his mind”

“I have no doubt that he could”

They scroll some more, drifting into comfortable silence again. Lance runs out of things to look at pretty quickly, because he has no media besides The News, so he puts his phone down and stares out the window at the rising sun instead. A thought forms in his mind. “Should I get faebook?”

“Why not?”, Keith shrugs, also putting his phone down. “I barely use mine, but I can imagine that it´d be for you. We could set you up an account tonight”

“Yeah” Lance grins, suddenly excited. Lotor didn’t allow him to have social media, but guess what, Lotor doesn’t have a say in that anymore, so _fuck_ Lotor. Or rather, no more fucking Lotor. He stares at Keith across the table from him, a few loose streaks framing his face, his tired eyes and parted lips as he scrolls through MyBlade, his sweater loose enough to reveal half a collarbone and the ink underneath it. Lance can now truly say that he definitely has a crush. Not just because Keith is, well,  pretty, but because he is the first person to accept Lance for who he is. And to kiss Lance like he means it. The first person Lance doesn’t need to shy away from.

“Hey, Keith” He nudges him with his foot underneath the table. Keith looks up, smiling.

“Hmm?”

“I think I have a crush on you”

That makes Keith laugh, a genuine laugh that makes warmth pool in Lance´s stomach. “You have a crush on your husband”, he says, “But don’t worry, that husband has a crush on you, too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest In Peace, Stan Lee. You will be missed.


	10. Mental Health Break

There won't be any updates for a while, as I am taking a bit of a mental health break. Well, actually I had to sort out my priorities. With the Abitur creeping closer I need to focus my energy on school, along with my transition and driver's license and all that. I'm sorry and I promise I won't abandon this story (like I did with Golden Glow, oops). Feel free to still comment your ideas and headcanons and I will add them to a list that is growing in my phone's notes. I will still try to answer to comments, especially questions, it just may take some time. 

Thank you for understanding <3

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on my kik GhostBoyDeathKing or my Snapchat danny.fandom


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